Welcome to Day 3 of my #30DaysProud project! Today I share how proud I am that I completed a novel. I participated in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) in 2012, and completed the required 50,000 words for the first draft of a novel.
The challenge was fun and I honestly saw some of my best writing blossom from it. I hope to someday take the opportunity to revise the novel I drafted and make something of it.
The working title of my novel is Amends. It is about a working class family in the Boston area who struggle with mental illness and addiction, and how they overcome their challenges through love. It is loosely based on some of my life experiences, but it is fictionalized.
An excerpt of my novel is below. In it, a priest relays the parable of the Prodigal Son. The Prodigal Son has always been one of my favorite stories in the Bible. The reason I feature it in the novel is because it somewhat mirrors what is going on with the family in the story.
I am sharing it via video and text, so read however you prefer. I hope you enjoy it.
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We always dress our best for Sunday Mass. I’m wearing a dark emerald green dress with white flowers on it and lace-looking ruffles at the sleeves and the bottom. Underneath, I’m wearing white underwear, white tights, and a white slip. My chestnut Dorothy Hamill cut bounces as I walk and my Mary Janes click along the sidewalk in front of St. Paul’s.
I hate my haircut. It makes me look and feel like a boy, even when I’m wearing a dress. Mum loves it. She cuts it for me and says its easier to maintain. Whenever my hair grows long, it gets knotted up so badly that she has to cut it anyway. This keeps it under control. I’d rather have a rat’s nest of a hairdo than look like a boy, though.
Mum looks like a raven-haired Lady Di. Her short crop sports stylish waves. There are a few gray strands in it that you don’t notice unless you’re close to her. She wears a long string of fake pearls she got on sale at Filene’s Basement. They’re tied in the middle. She has large pearls in each ear that look more like mini brooches than earrings.
During Mass, I think about everything but God. I think about my crush, Tommy. I think about the new Babysitter’s Club book I have at home that I want to start. I think about going to Brigham’s with Nana Teresa and Mum after Mass and what kind of ice cream sundae I’ll order.
The organ starts playing, and everyone begins to sing the song in the hymnal, number 336. I frantically turn the pages of the hymnal to find it. Father James and the altar boys come down the long aisle of St. Paul’s. One boy is carrying a cross and stands in front of Father James. The other follows Father James, and is carrying The Holy Bible. Father James carries incense, which he disperses as he walks down the aisle- moving his arms from side to side to capture both sides of the congregation. Mum hates the smell and covers her nose. I kind of like it.
St. Paul’s is one of the largest churches in New England, and wins the title for the longest aisle. During weddings at St. Paul’s, the organ player always has to play the wedding march slowly while the bride makes her way down the aisle.
I knew I was going to get married at St. Paul’s someday, with Father James officiating. I would probably marry Tommy Fiorentino. Mrs. Fiorentino always told us that Irish and Italian people always made the most beautiful babies. That’s why she married Tony Fiorentino.
Tommy was beautiful. He had jet black hair like James Bond, olive skin, and hazel eyes. I wish I was as good looking as him and his sister Christina.
Dad would walk me down the aisle and give me away to Tommy, who would wear a black tux, white vest, and white bow tie. Tommy and I would make beautiful babies together and live happily ever after.
Father James took his place at the altar.
“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,” Father James said, as we all made the sign of the cross. Head, heart, left shoulder, right shoulder.
“Amen,” the congregation said.
“The Lord be with you,” Father James said.
“And also with you,” the robotic congregation responded.
“Lift up your hearts.”
“We lift them up to the Lo-ahd.”
“Let us give thanks to the Lord, our God.”
“It is right to give him thanks and praise.”
I may as well have been asleep through most of Mass every Sunday. Even the pew people- watching was boring… everyone was so well-behaved at St. Paul’s.
My favorite part of Mass is Father James’ message, the only part of Mass that wasn’t scripted.
After Father James got through the routine, which bored even him, he began:
“I’m sure many of you are familiar with the parable of The Prodigal Son. For those of you who aren’t familiar, this is a story that reveals the true nature of God and His unlimited forgiveness.
“This may surprise some of you, but God doesn’t care what you’ve done in the past, or how much of it you’ve done. God only cares about who you are today. Right here. Right now.
“In the parable of the Prodigal Son, documented in the Gospel of Luke, Jesus tells us about a father and his two sons. The older son is obedient, works hard, and does everything he can to please his father. He spends the money his father bestows to him wisely. He does everything ‘right.’
“The younger son is the complete opposite of the older son. He wants to get away from his father’s rule, and he leaves his father’s home the first chance he gets. He travels far. Let’s imagine it in modern terms. The younger son leaves the suburbs of Boston for the bright lights of Los Angeles. He wants to make it in the movies. He gets into the film business, makes important friends, and squanders every cent his father gave him on fancy clothes, liquor, and women. He’s having a grand old time.
“Then a famine strikes Los Angeles. Suddenly, there’s no money for anything extravagant, and food prices increase as supplies run low. The younger son has never experienced such hardship. He struggles to survive. He begins working on a pig farm, and envies the pigs because they eat better than he does. Can you imagine wishing to eat what a pig eats?
“Finally, in desperation, the son journeys from Los Angeles all the way back home to Boston. He doesn’t know what else to do. He wishes for nothing more than to return to his father’s home and to tell his father that he is sorry. He has never felt so separated from his father, and that separation leaves him with an aching heart.
“And he’s embarrassed. He thinks, ‘Maybe I shouldn’t return home. What if my father is angry, or rejects me for disobeying him? What if he strikes me dead? Or worse, what if he takes one look at me and tells me never to come into his presence again?’
“Then he has an idea. He says, ‘I will apologize to my father and offer to be one of his hired servants. Even his servants are eating better than I am now!’ So he returns home.
“His father sees his young son coming down the road, his son, whom he hasn’t seen in years! Tears well up in his eyes. He is overjoyed that his son is alive and safe. He notices the terrible clothing his son wears- torn and tattered. He looks thin and frail. He doesn’t have a coat on, and he looks like he is freezing.
“He sees the look in his son’s eyes, a pitiable look. It is clear that the son realizes he has wronged his father.
“But the father doesn’t care about that. Instead, he sees that his son needs a coat, a hot meal, and a drink of water. The father is filled with compassion. He runs down the road to meet his son, throws his arms around him, and kisses him.
“The son says, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son.’
“The father calls to his servants, ‘Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet: And bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it; and let us eat, and be merry.’”
Father James paused.
“For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.
Father James paused again.
“Some of us find this unfair. The older, obedient son certainly did. He thought, ‘Why should my brother be shown any compassion? He sinned! Here I am, having obeyed my father my entire life, and nobody’s throwing me a party, or celebrating!’ He refuses to enter the party and celebrate with everyone else. Instead, the older brother confronts his father.
“The father, in his wisdom, says to his son: ‘Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine. It was meet that we should make merry, and be glad: for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again’ and was lost, and is found.’
“The word of the Lord,” Father James concluded.
“Thanks be to God,” the congregation responded.
