“You have to go to this workshop!”
“It costs too much money,” I said hoping she would drop the subject.
“If you want to polish your writing skills you need to attend more workshops like this” she insisted.
I paused knowing that she was right and said “Ok, I’ll give it some thought”.
That was Friday evening.
Saturday morning she marched into my office and said “Ok, you’re all signed up for Bob Welch and Jane Kirkpatrick’s Beach Side Writers Workshop. Have fun!”.
Long story short, the first Friday in March I was sitting next to the ocean in Yachats, Oregon in room with fifty other aspiring writers learning skills designed make me a better writer. My wife is a tough editor. And once again she was right. It was a great workshop and I was learning how to, as she would say, “polish” my writing.
Saturday morning each writer in the workshop was handed a different Norman Rockwell picture. We were given thirty minutes to create a story about the picture.
This is the picture I was given…………
and this is the story I wrote……………..
The World Through The Eyes Of A Dog by Dick Rauscher
I have absolutely no idea why everyone is running.
But it must be something really scary the way everyone keeps looking back over their shoulder!
But what would I know. I’m only a dog.
I was sleeping in the grass by the side of the rock quarry when officer Boggsbottom came roaring up the dirt road with his lights flashing and his siren screaming full blast.
That’s when everyone panicked, grabbed their clothes and started yelling and running.
Now I’ve got to get ahead of this crowd or I’m going to get trampled.
I would rally like to stop and scratch that pesky flea, but there too many feet to keep track of so I’d better keep running.
I’m running as fast as I can! I can’t believe how frightened I feel!
Oh no! My fur is wet! Boggsbottom will “know” I was swimming before I took my nap!
That’s it! No more swimming for me! From now on I’m staying under the porch with the rabbit. I only came with them for the hotdogs I knew they would drop.
My legs are getting really tired……not sure I’m going to make it……I wonder if they’ll come back for me?
Oh no!!!…….even the fat kid is gaining on me!
My tongue isn’t cooling me down. I can feel heat stroke coming on!
This is downright terrifying! I’m living my last moments!
If I survive, I promise to stop bugging the cat and chasing the chickens.
This can’t be happening to me!
My life is flashing before my eyes! I can’t feel my legs!
Are you kidding!? Is this all you can come up with in thirty minutes?
I’m a dog for Pete’s sake.How complicated can it be?
My brain isn’t that complicated or deep.
That’s it! I’m going to have to look for a new writer! You’re making me sound like an idiot.
Oh damn. I’m losing ground!
You’re the writer! Get me out of this mess!
Oh no!……don’t let me trip……I hope you don’t let me trip!
I can’t catch my breath…..this is getting really old!
Have you ever…pant…pant…. considered getting a good editor?
I included the last line of the story as a slight yank on my wife’s chain. Needless to say, she pretended to ignore the humor until I admitted to her that it was a great workshop and thanked her for signing me up.
And yes, it’s already in my calendar for next year. They are my tribe. Of course I’ll be there.
“Yes Dear. I’ve already said you were right.”
“Yes Dear. You’re a great editor!”