From the Vault: Just One More Chapter

One more draft from a pandemic-era writing class!

Thank you, again, for being a paid subscriber to my Substack. I’m still figuring things out around here, and I appreciate your support. I’m challenging myself to start writing new little essays each week. I’ve enjoyed reviewing these older ones, and I’ll probably still include them from time to time. But it’s time for some new work!

This little essay was written in a Zoom writing class during the pandemic. The writing prompt: Write about a childhood memory and connect it to the present (or something like that).

FROM THE VAULT: JUST ONE MORE CHAPTER

“Just one more chapter, Mommy! Please, just one more!”

My sister and I nuzzled on either side of Mom’s shoulders. Three sets of eyes stared at the half page of the chapter’s end, a cliffhanger. What would happen next? We had to know now.

Negotiations ensued within Mom and Dad’s queen size waterbed, circa 1990. “One more chapter” was negotiated down to “just four more pages.” Mom continued reading aloud, changing her voice when each character spoke.

When Dad traveled for work, my sister and I got to sleep with Mom, and she would read the latest American Girl or other chapter book aloud until one or all of us couldn’t keep our eyes open for even one more paragraph.