Voices from the Flats – A Literary Winner!
Please join me in congratulating Mudflatter Lisa Sarasohn, designer and instigator of the Mudflats Shop, in a wonderful achievement! She was one of two runners-up in National Public Radio’s “Three Minute Fiction” contest, selected from 3,600 entries! The judge, James Wood, is a literary critic at The New Yorker! To use a literary term – Yowza!
The assignment? To write an original work of fiction beginning with the sentence, “The nurse left work at 5:00.”
Enjoy!
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The nurse left work at five o’clock.
Having written the sentence on the chalk board, Mr. Treadwell turns to his students. “What’s the meter here? Anyone?”
Fluorescent lights in the hallway flicker and hum. Mr. Treadwell sighs. He’s been reduced to this: teaching a six-week poetry course in the community college’s adult ed program.
The woman who always comes in late raises her hand. “Yes, Rose?”
“Iambic tetrameter.”
“And that is…?”
“Four feet, each foot an unstressed syllable followed by a stressed syllable.”
“Thank you. And what’s the name for this foot that Rose has so ably described? Anyone?”
Despairing of a response, Mr. Treadwell writes “iamb” on the board with a flourish. “What’s the sound of an iamb, class?”
Gerald impersonates a Simpson: “doh DOH.”
“Excellent, Homer. The sound of an iamb is da DUM short LONG weak STRONG. You line up four iambs for this nurse and what happens?”
Stephanie, who never fails to knit through class, says, “She’s rolling.”
“Indeed. She’s got rhythm. What’s the rhyme here?”
Wanda speaks up: “The ‘er’ sound in ‘nurse’ and ‘work.’”
Mr. Treadwell nods. “We call that ‘assonance’ in the trade.”
Stewart, sitting in the back row, snickers.
“Recognize yourself in that, Stewart? Tell me, where do we find the consonance in this line?”
Stewart shrugs.
“It’s in the consonant ‘k’ sound, repeating at the end of ‘work’ and ‘clock.’” Mr. Treadwell surveys the room. “All in all, what do these seven words pack into this poetic line?”
“‘The nurse left work’ functions as a unit,” says Rose. “Internal rhyme condenses the phrase into a cannonball and loads it into the cannon. The ‘i’ in ‘five’ stokes the gunpowder. ‘At five o’clock’ lights the fuse. ‘The nurse left work’ — pow! — ‘at five o’clock’ — she’s gone. She’s on a mission.”
Mr. Treadwell’s eyebrows arch. “And then what happens?”
“She lands hard on the ‘clock,’ that final ‘k.’ She’s at a standstill. She doesn’t know what to do.”
“Maybe you can give her a few pointers.” Mr. Treadwell checks his watch. “Your assignment for next week: Write a poem of eight lines; use this line as your first. See you Wednesday.”
Rose gathers her purse and coat and leaves the classroom. She has skirted the subject of poetry, preferring classes in photography, French cooking, wine-tasting. Poetry? Daunting. All those rules, the impossibility of rhyming.
But now she’s encountering half, sprung, slant, tall, imperfect rhymes. Rhymes masculine and feminine. Words rhyming in their own way: softly, subtly, unpredictably.
At the hospital the next morning she greets a frail man who’s come to visit one of her patients. Rose directs him down the corridor to Mrs. Robertson’s room, watching as he leans on his cane and limps down the hallway: left RIGHT. She catches up with him and takes his arm.
Seeing her visitor, Mrs. Robertson smiles. Rose checks the monitors metering changes in blood pressure, measuring pulse. The newly installed pacemaker modulates Mrs. Robertson’s heartbeat: lub DUB.
Rose passes her patient’s doctor in the hallway. They nod.
The following Wednesday, Rose leaves the hospital as usual, catching the 5:25 bus to the college. As usual, she’s 10 minutes late to class.
Stephanie’s at the front of the room, reading her eight-line poem.
Rose reads her poem last, blushing only slightly:
The nurse left work at five o’clock.
Two pears ripen in her kitchen.
She stops for cream and cinnamon.
Seven pearls fall from her pocket.Rain falls until ten o’clock.
His headlights glitter flecks of gold.
Two pears ripen in the speckled bowl.
A flight of stairs, a crimson door, he knocks.
Lisa, I love it. Congratulations! What a fun read. I found myself counting, and made myself stop during the first reading. Then, I went back and played and played.
Thank you, AKM.
Lovely
Wow! This was great! Congratulations!
Nicely written and congratulations Lisa.
Congratulations, Lisa! I’m not surprised that this was chosen as one of the top three: every word counts.
Congratulations, Lisa. I remember hearing about this contest on NPR. Below, you will find the winning story along with other others including Lisa’s.
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=105660765
You will also find the reasons why Mr. Woods picked these stories. We are truly lucky that Mudflats is awash in so many fine writers.
I am simply astounded! Congratulations, Lisa!
very clever and the poem at the end rocked. !!
this is absolutely brilliant.
STANDING OVATION!!!!
Lisa, that is simply stunning. Such fine writing … Congratulations on your well-deserved recognition.
Wow ~ Outstanding Lisa…
Outstanding! Greatly enjoyed!
Politics, Quittypants AND excellent examples of art and literature on one blog. Mudflats ROCKS!
Many many congratulations, Lisa. I love it.
Awesome Lisa! Congrats to you.
Awesome Lisa congratulations
Many congratulations! I enjoyed your story very much.
Lisa, the Mudflats community is so proud of you! Excellent story and wonderful poem at the end. There’s just enough detail about the main character to make you want to know more about her. Damn fine writing.
Lisa
I’m teaching poetic elements/language/figurative language to my middle-schoolers next week.May I use your story to get the lesson started? It contains fine examples of many of the terms I need to teach.
Well done, well done!!
Congratulations, Lisa! Brava!
bravissima Lisa. loved it…bubs
Wow and just wow! Epic awesome.
Nice! Congrats and cheers Lisa! Good for you.
This was great! I listen to NPR all the time and heard about this contest. Very cool.
Thanks, gang! I appreciate your huzzahs so much. And a tip of the hat to AKM — her writing style continues to inspire. (I’m at a loss for words at the moment, but picture smiles beaming back and forth at light-speed between us!)
@psminidivapa
Feel free to use the story for your class — I’m honored!
Lisa, I loved your story and got chills reading the poem. Congratulations on your well-deserved recognition!
Brilliant !!!
Loved it Lisa. Thanks AKM, you attract the best. I feel blessed hanging out with y’all.
That. Is. Amazing.
time very
productively spent
achieving something
so subtle
and excellent
creating a wonderful
image of life,
a snapshot, a portrait
creative tension yet no strife
the Pups of Mud ReJoice!
Lisa, I love your story and the embedded poem!!!
Lisa, AMAZING piece! Brilliant. Congratulations!!!!!!
Intelligence, creativity and an amazing comprehension of the the Queens English. Pack em all in one writer, and Mudflatter Lisa Sarasohn flows forth. More, as the crowd cheers, more!
Only on The Mudflats! The best blog ever
That was just a joy to read! Congratulations, Lisa!
Oh Lisa. That was a beautifully woven piece. Congratulations!!!!
Congratulations! Awesome work!