another high school, coming of age story
so i don't really want to do anything with this until i figure out what my point is, besides just being another high school, coming of age story... as much as the main character is like me, as much as some of those thoughts are mine from other times, she already has a rather distinct voice in my head, rather similar to the almost-me character that i always intended to write a coming of age novel about (although younger than she appears in this one.) and can you tell that each sentence was constructed pretty much independent of every other/ -.-; it makes for some repetition that needs to be fixed, and far more of an emphasis on the push-up bra than i ever intended. heh. ^^;; so who knows what i'm going to do with this thing... (i need to add more to the introduction, before it changes to first person, before i really do anything more, too.)
. . . . .
She was a skinny little thing, with just enough curve to be more than a toothpick; a real knock-out in a push-up bra, with a cute face and a wicked sense of humor.
Of course, take away the push-up bra, let her wear her old jeans, forget to remind her to brush her hair, and you were left with someone who could easily get lost in a crowd. And that was exactly where (name) found herself for most of her life, until the day that she talked to (name) and bought a push-up bra.
* * *
I’m going to tell you the secret to being popular, at least for a day. It’s not very difficult, and you only need two things: a cute haircut and the answers to last night’s homework.
I want to tell you the truth about high school—or, at least, about my high school, since I’ve been told that it’s rather different from most high schools—but I think that at least some of it will hold true, in the same way that a book written over a hundred years ago in another country can still have things that hold true, here, and now, because that’s just human nature.
. . . . .
She was a skinny little thing, with just enough curve to be more than a toothpick; a real knock-out in a push-up bra, with a cute face and a wicked sense of humor.
Of course, take away the push-up bra, let her wear her old jeans, forget to remind her to brush her hair, and you were left with someone who could easily get lost in a crowd. And that was exactly where (name) found herself for most of her life, until the day that she talked to (name) and bought a push-up bra.
I’m going to tell you the secret to being popular, at least for a day. It’s not very difficult, and you only need two things: a cute haircut and the answers to last night’s homework.
I want to tell you the truth about high school—or, at least, about my high school, since I’ve been told that it’s rather different from most high schools—but I think that at least some of it will hold true, in the same way that a book written over a hundred years ago in another country can still have things that hold true, here, and now, because that’s just human nature.
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