Week 7, Theme 4

Prompt: Revision: return to and revise a theme with your discussions of your work with your tutor in mind. This might take the form of another Gordon Lish exercise in condensation. But if you go back and revise a theme primarily by cutting it, take the next step and use the space you’ve gained to develop the theme in some new way: for example, by extending the story, or framing with it a new beginning or end.

Original Theme:

Pierce sits at the bottom of the steps in the sun-streaked foyer. Streams of light filter in through the stained glass windows, green and red and pretty.

“Pierce!” Grandma calls from the kitchen. It is time for lunch.

Pierce stares at his shoes. The shoes are white and red and threatening. The two laces for each foot jut out and curl and twist with no set direction. The eight metal-lined holes on each shoe through which the laces are thread glint in the light. The shoes challenge Pierce. Pierce glares at the shoes, but his stare is no match for that of the eight-eyed monsters.

Grandma enters the foyer with a plate of macaroni and cheese and a glass of milk. “Oh, Pierce. You can try after lunch.” Pierce does not look up.

The fumes of the mac and cheese wafting around his head, Pierce frames his battle against the shoes. Not being able to tie one’s shoes - this is one of those things that they kick you out of pre-school for. And if you can’t get through pre-school then you can’t get a job. And if you can’t get a job you disappoint. In a delirious state, Pierce tears at the laces in a fury of activity – crossing them, knotting them, pulling them.

Half an hour after Grandma brought the mac and cheese, she walks in with a cookie for Pierce. As she turns to face the stairs, she sees a smiling Pierce, the look of contentment at a hard-won victory on his face.

All four of the laces of his two shoes were laced together in a single neat, strong knot. Pierce – a shoe-tying innovator.

Revised Theme:

I sat at the bottom of the steps in the sun-streaked foyer. Streams of light filtered in through the stained glass windows, green and red and penetrating.

“Pierce! Lunch!” Grandma called from the kitchen.

I stared at my shoes. They were white and red and threatening. The two laces for each foot jutted out and curled and twisted with no set direction. The eight metal-lined lace holes on each shoe glinted in the light. The shoes challenged me. I glared at the shoes, and the shiny eight-eyed monsters returned my glare.

Grandma entered the foyer with a plate of macaroni and cheese and a glass of milk. “Oh, Pierce. You can try after lunch.” I did not look up as she set the plate on the steps and walked away.

The tempting odor of the mac and cheese wafted around my head as I framed my battle against the shoes. Not being able to tie one’s shoes - this is one of those things that they kick you out of pre-school for. And if I don’t get through pre-school then I won’t get a job. And if I don’t get a job then I’ll disappoint mom and grandma. In a delirious state, I teared at the laces in a fury of activity – crossing them, knotting them, pulling them.

Half an hour after Grandma brought the mac and cheese, she walked in with a cookie for me. As she turned to face me, I flashed her a big smile, the look of contentment at a hard-won victory plastered on my face.

All four of the laces of his two shoes were laced together in a single neat, strong knot. I was a shoe-tying innovator.