Mission Accomplished - jk cosmos (excerpt- upcoming novel)

 

Mission Accomplished

 

Sitting in the back row of class, knitting to stay awake, she couldn't quite believe the long days and nights. Law School and the dense readings, monotone lecturers, droning on about the law and their heydays. Night school.  Why?  Because, tuition is only one part of the equation, there’s living...yup, rent and food and getting around. Filling the gas tank and keeping up insurance & car payments. So, why law?  Why not! 

            That’s the thread of the life of a girl, in the back row, knitting and listening and thinking that she will actually effectuate positive change.  It’s the glue for the belief, however, pollyanna, that she will make a difference.  The ticket is the law degree and passing the Bar.  Ahhh, passing the bar.  What can that do in the long run?  It’s too early to think too hard on that piece.

            She had a date with a Greek guy, that her father had fixed her up with. Again, that ethnic bit despite living in Cambridge, away from her folks.  She agreed, to please her dad, thinking as she put away her knitting and books in the various bags that perhaps she’d been too agreeable. She was a bit tired, crammed in with over fifty students in a hot room, above a retail space on Newbury Street, which was the good news, being in the city and not isolated in some suburban campus.

Memoir- Teaching - Taught - & Thinking about...in these harsh days of Global Pandemic!

 

Memoir Writing – Jeanne K. Cosmos, JD, MFA

What is Memoir?

How is Memoir different than Autobiography?

Where does one start?  At the beginning?  Somewhere that is a transformational moment?

Prompts and support in writing from memory to create an engaging narrative is an ongoing process.

 

Series One Writers’ Workshops

“Memoir – Writing with a Perspective that is Introspective & Engaging”

 

Memoir Workshops are designed for the development of a narrative of self that is meaningful and introspective.  The work also focusses on engagement with audience.

This work is practical, concrete, and definitively transformative.

Workshops are writing and reading intensive. Creating language and narrative with words that communicate in tone and purpose is a major component of the series.

All of this can be engaged at personal levels of development and commitment.

The workshop is individualized from beginners to expert writers; allowing for variance of experience among participants. It is your passion for and commitment to writing that is important

Experimental, collaborative, and collage writing will be explored and encouraged. So, bring it.

The peer editing piece is crucial to the process of writing, as is the writing prompts during the group meetings.

Instructor: Jeanne K. Cosmos

Juris Doctor, Masters in Fine Arts-Creative Writing

Course Dates/Time

 

 

Writing Prompt - & this is what I got...Time restricted...

 

February 24, 2005

Three Characters from your past – come to you & say they want you to write about them.  Who are they & why do they want you to write about them?

-In the 3^rd grade, the class of Mary Lyons Elementary School was tested for a new accelerated education Program, in the city of Boston.  Eddie Madden was in my class.  He had blond curly hair, blue eyes and a very engaging smile.  Everyone liked him.

He was one of the students chosen for the 25 selected to learn @ the accelerated pace.  He participated & kept up with the class from 4^th to 6^th grade.  The class went on through 8^th grade; but Eddie dropped out at 6^th.  He was a gentle, kind boy.  He asked m to write about him – his kindness and potential – his friendly & open demeanor – because I knew him, then.  I knew the boy.

Eddie asked me to write about him – as he sits in MCI-Walpole – now known as MCI Cedar Junction. He sits there- for the rest of his productive life & will remain incarcerated – with little hope of accomplishing the potential of the boy.  Eddie asked me to write about him; as a remembrance of lost innocence, of positive energy and of the people that had hopes for his success & for his happiness.

 

My maternal grandmother asked me to write about her – as she believed in a community; where both men and women could succeed & surpass the generation before them.  She wants me to write about her to honor her support of her son and daughters, grandchildren and great-grand-children, having none herself.

She encourages her children, to read, to excel at school and to do their best.

 

 

The Sixties at UMB

University of Boston was at end of this street before moving to Columbia Point. We’d study, discuss big ideas, write papers & get high in the library on Arlington street. City colleges include vibe of the city. It was dynamic it was marvelous. It was the sixties!

Between classes we’d lie on the grass at Boston Gardens-just up the street & think about the universe & our lives -making things better. It was 1968-so demonstrations on Boston Common were often & energizing. As a reporter for MassMedia news, I had an upfront view. Together w my photographer, we’d be on the frontline of everything. Just everything. Heady stuff. Optimism. Idealism. Hope.

I’m still looking for Jack Daly -lost him somehow on campus; he was a sweet disenchanted Vietnam Vet -home & causing a ruckus in his laid back way. I’ve always rooted for the underdog-then & now!  Namaste!

Memory - written on my IPhone - in traffic abutting the South End - my youth & crazy days!

Postcard from Falmouth - jk cosmos

 Postcards from Falmouth – jk cosmos

What is it that engages my memory, reading this postcard? The tone. Mary writes to

Esther – “I suppose that you will never forgive me for not writing…” and yet, this is the writing.

The writer is writing to her friend; a backwards glance at someone self-deprecating. Mary

introspective; are her friendships less than they could be? Can I identify with that means-end

connection?

Plot twist, now letting Esther know that she is waitressing, with her aunt, at

Coonamessett Inn. Busy summer and I recall so much fun waitressing; that’s been my summer

experience at the Flying Bridge in the late 60s. Being down the Cape- so perfect! But no, Mary

writes about working hard, counting the days and loneliness. “Please write to me, as it is rather

lonely here.”

I Sigh, as I think about the girl writing this postcard; wishing she had more during her summer

in Falmouth.

I Sigh, as I think about a lonely girl writing a postcard with a vulnerable ‘pause’ about being

down the Cape, working and lonely.

I wonder why this narrative speaks to me and if it’s a theme of my life, or a blip being in a

global pandemic.

I know the girl writing.

I recognize the girl writing.

And, I wonder if Esther writes back.

John - has died! Saddened and Sad.

John

 

              Waiting for my law school friend, Shelley, to complete the Bar Exam and then we’d celebrate. I idled the car in front of Hynes in Boston on Boylston Street. It was summer 1976. I had one more year of law school studies to go.

              Shelley ran down the stair, jubilant comes to mind…with a laugh and a loudness to her. She is Lebanese and a big girl; large proportions and largeness in personality.  Shelley is someone who doesn’t care much about social propriety – not at all.  I drove a Renault LeCar – a small French boxy car with a large sunroof.  And so, yes, the sunroof was open.  She jumped in; but dove directly in the back seat- as just behind her was a man, tall, and movie star gorgeous & he popped himself into the front seat beside me.  Both laughing and both out of breath.

Hello.

Hello -you…You don’t mind if I join you.  Shelley invited me to come along.

This is John.  He’s one of the Exam Proctor’s. Yeah, we got talking.

Oh my God, Shelley picked up the Bar Exam Proctor. She’s crazy.

No problem.  Let’s go. We’re going up to Lynnfield to a Middle Eastern restaurant with dancing and a band. Okay.

Sounds great. Let’s go.

              First impression.  John was carefree and very good looking . Tall and confidant.   Why is Shelley always the one to find and get the guy!?

I was jealous and wishing I had more gumption.

 

*********************************************************

 

In the middle of a global pandemic and it’s been too many months, too much time in isolation and so worried all the time, I am aging in place.

Thought about the day…& wondered about friends from when I was young, and hopeful and joyful.  Trying too hard to find happiness and joy these days.

I googled a guy from my past, John C. and a link read that he died. That cannot be right.  I searched some more and couldn’t find an obit or death notice of any kind. It was his name, even his middle name…I remembered. Emmanuel.  The age 71 and the date February 2019.  That can’t be right.  He’s been gone for that long; he’s been gone before Covid was even a thing.

No, I checked the Mass Bar List of lawyers…and it was there, confirmed, John was ‘deceased’.

 

I kept searching online for more. The how and a bit of history on who he is – was.  I know what I know, but I wanted to read about him. Nothing.  Not one word.  Nothing at all.

No children, no wife.  His mother gone and nothing about his brother. Cousins, yes, I heard about one and didn’t see anything about his life and all that – what’s expected and the usual.

I am saddened. I am sad. I am more gut-wretched than I thought I’d be.  John no longer in the world is a lot to take in.  I am so so sorry to hear this.

I have significant memories of John and me – of an adventure. I have sweet recollections of the possibilities of us- or was that all a dream.  My journals are gone- my former husband kept them and so, I rely on general memories, not detailed writings of emotions, experiences and thoughts about life and living.  That’s long gone and so now I am left with a fog of what was and not too clear on all of the moments.  I am clear on the feelings and clear on the experiences that was us.

 Covid - A year of Isolation!  A year of our Discontent!  A year of Danger & Unrest!

Unfathomable how a pandemic changes the world and the individual, daily experience.  One day, teaching on campus and moving about freely- by day's end, in the apartment and frightened and worried for yourself, and your loved ones. Fearful of a virus - for your family and then the world encrouches on you in a way that was sci-fi and now is reality.

Pandemic - virus - contageon - how scary is the verbiage and the new reality and uncertainty - is mind-boggling.  Beyond that - though - is the daily grind and worry.  The worry and fear wears you out and is exhausting. The worry and fear is about as critical to people as the actual virus.

What to do! What can one do!?  How do you continue to teach or read, when your attention is so so distractable and your energy level so low? Some people readily say that they are 'depressed', which is a valid certainty..to say that. Others fight that designation of depression and hope and think that sinking feeling will pass & it is, afterall, only feeling 'blue'.