The Wedding - Revised (with teacher's comments)

I'm finally getting around to posting The Wedding piece that originally appeared on this blog and that I submitted as my final project for my writing class. It's basically the same piece except for the last two paragraphs. I was not happy with the way those two paragraphs flowed so I rewrote them a bit. Once I got the paragraphs to read the way I wanted them to, I found that my piece was 738 words long -- 238 words over the specified limit. At that point, I didn't want to mess with it anymore and submitted it anyway, hoping the teacher wouldn't notice. My plan backfired. She did notice. And the very paragraphs that I spent so much time perfecting ended up hardly being reviewed by my teacher.

C'est la vie.

What I was really disappointed about was that my teacher gave no indication in her comments that The Wedding might be the most intriguing thing she's read since War and Peace. Or at least since Sex and the City. Hell, I would have been happy if she said I was more compelling than the cereal box she read that morning. You see, I was looking for validation, some sort of sign that my pursuit of writing isn't a complete and utter waste of time. I got bupkus.

That's not entirely true. I did get encouragement to continue writing, but she encouraged everyone to do that. She would have said the same thing to Jethro Bodine had he been taking her writing class. Surely, I can put words together better than a Beverly Hillbilly.

I don't have to be told that I'm the next Ernest Hemingway but I would like to know that I don't suck. Is that too much to ask?

The Boyfriend had a different take on the situation. He thought the teacher's comments were encouraging and served as proof of my talent. And he may be right but what kind of writer would I be if I were not insecure and overly sensitive?

The instructor did mention that my final project was a little too detailed. I fault that on having just finished the lesson on descriptive writing when I wrote The Wedding and I was taking my skills for a test drive. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of falling in love with the sound of my own words when I should have been deleting paragraphs to create a stronger piece.

Anywho, here is my final project. The teacher's comments are in bold and interspersed throughout the piece. You can read the whole thing or you can skip right to her final analysis at the bottom.

GrizzBabe,

I like to comment right in the piece as I read, giving you a running commentary on my reactions as a typical reader and also as your instructor. It's a good way for you to see the effect of your words on readers as the piece unfolds. It allows me to make suggestions too.

It's been a pleasure working with you. Keep writing!

All my best,
Ann

The Wedding

Thirty minutes after I had put on a brand new pair of black satin dress pumps, my feet started to hurt. (good opening) The heel was just a bit higher than I was used to wearing, causing my feet to slide forward, jamming my toes into the pointy tip. As I stared at my shoes in the floor-length mirror, I wondered how other women (did) do this on a daily basis. Wearing heels higher than 1.5 inches felt (take out "so") so unnatural not to mention uncomfortable(,) but I decided to tough it out because sometimes it is better to look good than to feel good. (interesting thought for us) And look good I did in my wispy(,) long, (no comma) black evening skirt worn with a sparkly black, square-necked blouse. I didn't feel as put together as I would have liked because I didn't have time to wash and curl my hair so I twisted my limp mane into a bun and secured it with jeweled chopsticks. Not my best look(,) but it would have to do.

The ballroom where the wedding and reception were held (was) is located in one of downtown's most historic locations. The trey ceilings boasted intricate moldings and supported several large, crystal chandeliers. Huge(vague) columns adorned in gold fleur de leaf (spelling) flanked the wedding area while shimmering champagne-hued drapery hung between the columns serving as a visual wall and creating a chapel-like atmosphere. (good choice of details)

Although the setting was gorgeous, the seating was very uncomfortable. The small, dainty chairs were crammed so close together that my shoulders frequently rubbed against my neighbor(,) and the tightly constructed rows ensured that my knees stayed planted in the backside of the woman in front of me for the duration of the ceremony. (that's funny)

The large collection of bridesmaids looked elegant as they paraded down the aisle one-by-one. Their chocolate satin gowns complimented the decor of the ballroom perfectly. The bride wore an antique white strapless dress that fit snugly along the bodice and hips before gradually flaring out into a short, chapel-length train. (I'm starting to get just a tad impatient. Nothing has happened to arouse my interest. It's all description. You'll want to get to the story/conflict very soon.)

The bride and groom, although happy, were not overly sentimental. They recited their vows without any difficulty or visible signs of emotion. The wedding itself was short and sweet. There was no singing or music to draw out the ceremony. Almost as soon as the wedding had started, it was over.

After the procession, guests were asked to wait on the mezzanine level while the wedding area was transformed back into a ballroom filled with tables draped in crisp white linens and dotted with red rose petals. Those same uncomfortable chairs from the wedding were also used for the reception(,) and I stared longingly at them from above as my feet began to swell and throb with pain.

One large helping of dip and three million pictures later (not clear who's taking pictures of whom), we were finally allowed back into the ballroom (period, take out "where") where (G)guests quickly formed lines in order to be one of the first to fill their plates with dry chicken and rubbery shrimp.

As I sat at my table and watched the bride and groom perform their choreographed first dance, I couldn't help but wonder what The Boyfriend's and my wedding might be like. I tried to imagine what it would feel like to finally have our lives joined together permanently. (I'll stop here for word count, but I did read the rest. Final analysis below.) I daydreamed about our first dance and how I would rather do the funky chicken and the robot than pay to learn some stuffy dance moves that we would never use again. I picked at my food and hoped that our guests would compliment us on a menu that had been cooked to perfection. I fantasized about us engaging in the social busyness that a reception requires while occasionally exchanging knowing glances from across the room in anticipation of our wedding night. My mind became so consumed with these thoughts that by the end of the evening I found myself yearning for my own fairy-tale wedding.

Unfortunately, my wedding fantasies will have to remain unfulfilled for a while longer. The Boyfriend and I have vowed to take slow, deliberate steps toward the altar. Not until this time next year will we reevaluate our relationship to determine for sure if one of us wants to move across several states to be with the other. Most of the time I am okay with this wise and pragmatic plan. However, on occasion, my wedding-inspired girly dreams will team up with my growing hatred of long distances to create an impatience that sometimes overwhelms me.

(The core of your piece is the difference between your dreams and this reality. The way you begin to dramatize this is to contrast this flawless but dull wedding with your own fantasies about a more meaningful and fun occasion. You might consider pacing this a bit differently so that you can entertain your readers with the contrasts instead of going into so much detail about a wedding you didn't care for. Keep the funny parts, though. You could use the wedding above, but insert your own fantasies right along with each flawless detail above. Start with the shoes, add the setting, review the seating, toss in the food, compare the music and dancing and this should read well. Your ending about whether this would ever come about would wrap it up nicely. You have all the pieces here, GrizzBabe. See what you think about the idea of rearranging it a bit. Keep going! --Ann)