Take one of your pieces and rewrite it according to the way events and characters might be viewed by a very different narrator. Try to include all the same elements of setting, dialogue, plot and character.
*For an extra challenge: try doing the rewrite as a change from the omniscient narrator (all-seeing) to a first person (or the reverse, depending on your original).
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Jealous Character in First Person narration (rewritten from omniscient)
I waited him out this time and finally he’d left for the “office,” that rotten husband of mine. I was going to find out if he’d been lying to me once and for all. Every time he had some sort of excuse or other—staying late at the office and, to make it all worse, he made it sound like it was all for her. “I won’t disturb when I come in. I don’t mind sleeping down in Michael’s old bedroom.”
I’d hear the door open, quietly, at two in the morning and then the shower start up and the soft thunk of the laundry chute closing. That was my cue; I’d find our spare key and head down to see Bob’s clothes under the laundry chute in the maid’s quarters.
Maggie was in the city for the night and Bob, well he wouldn’t be back until the next morning. The spare key was harder to find than I’d hoped, but I finally found it under some papers on the desk in the study.
After I slipped the key into the lock I walked down the hall to the laundry room. Bob always liked to say that “Cleanliness is next to Godliness.” What a sham he was! Here, in the laundry room, a huge pile of clothes sat next to washer. And, on top, was the shirt he’d worn to the office last night. Shalimar!
Caught him, I thought to myself. I wear Chanel, exclusively, and on closer inspection I found a smudge of lipstick on the collar. That rat! I’ve got him now I thought to myself, that is, until I got to the top of the stairs.
On the left was the couch, the one we’d bought together in our early days together. Before I could stop them the words escaped my lips. Bastard! Tears stained my cheeks as I sat down heavily on the couch and wept.
this peice is 98% fiction.
When I was 14, my family moved to a new town called Taiheh. That afternoon I was walking along the hallway of Taiheh secondary into willow street. Fitting in with the class and curriculum was not the problem for me. I had been a new student of this school for three weeks but not until that afternoon had I felt the fear of bullying. That afternoon had been a tragedy-- the first nightmare of my school life.
As I walked slowly down the sloping street, my mind was still spinning about the project of bird watching until a sudden pat on my back, a voice followed afterwards, “Hey, you.”
I turned around and saw a bulky boy standing right behind me. He was wearing a black coat and buckled boots; his blue hair was gleaming piercingly under the afternoon sun light. There was a group of kids crowding around him.
“Who the hell are you?” he shouted. While he was casting a sideway glance at me, his two hands were still busy whirling with a nunchaku.
“I-I am Bin, I am the new student,” said I cautiously.
There was some jokey laughter among the kids, and I heard someone ranted “ His name is bean pole.” Then laughter again. I kept silence, pretending not heard from what they said, and trying to leave. But the bulky boy stepped ahead of me and blocked my way like a wall.
“ This is our territory, you are not allowed to come. You hear me?” he yelled and pushed me a round.
“But, this is where I came for, “ I retorted in trembling voice.
I wish I did not say that words but it was too late. As quickly as a striking snake, the boy seized my shirt collar in his strong hands and hoisted me up, almost off my feet. I wiggled and kicked but his ironed fingers clamped rigidly around my throat. Appalled at the misery of my position, I began to thrash wildly. There was no doubt that a hopeless boy hanging by another vicious boy caught people’s eyes. I could feel myself choking and give up breathing when an old lady push her way through the crowd, crying: “drop him! You big bully.”
She was a very small lady with gray hair, but her eyes glared with fire. she smashed the bully with her embroidery purse. “What do you think you are doing, Hah? Keep your hands off this poor boy, the police will get you!”
Threatened by her words, the boy eventually released me. I slumped on the ground, being pop-eyed, half throttled, in no mood for gratitude. After a little while, I stood up and started to breathe easily. I felt I must escape and began to edge a way through the crowd. I wish I could be invisible as possible as I could. As I turned the corner, the last faint yell from the old lady reached me: “Never hurt an innocent person, ‘cause an evil will be rewarded with evil.”
--506 words
I am in a good mood today. My co-worker, Rose, was just here helping me plan Diane's surprise birthday party. Its a relief getting out of my semi-formal business attire.
Diane walked in on me fixing the tv, that was supposed to be a surprise as well. She gave me a strange look, like I should just buy a new one. She is probably right, it is defiantly a piece. She gave me a kiss and to the bedroom she went. I quickly gave the tv a boot and bam, t he picture was clear. I took out my to old for nothing. I quickly washed off my hands and headed for bed.
Diane gave me a look of disgust, like I had done something wrong. But what? I sat down beside her, she gave me another weird look and got up. I watched her walk to the bathroom with her head sunk in-between her shoulders. I followed. Diane told me that nothing was wrong, and that she had just had a rough day at work. I thought to myself, "really? a bad day at work got me dirty looks and no proper communication?"
She looked at me one more time and disappeared into the living room. This time I did not follow her instantly. I sat where she sat, trying to imagine what she could possibly have been thinking. I laid back on to the pillow and felt a bulge on the back of my head. I pulled out what happened to be my cellphone. I turned it on to find it open on a text from Rose. "Does she think i have relations with this unattractive woman? theres no way."
I quickly ran to the living room to find her there, already crying. I opened my mouth to try and explain the situation to her, even if that meant ruining her surprise birthday. I thought to myself, "but what was she doing snooping through my phone?, invading my privacy, jumping to conclusions, ugh!" My brain was spitting out thoughts so rapidly that I had failed to realize she was talking to me. I only managed to catch the last bit., and watched her walk out the door. Before I had a chance to even say good-bye she snapped, "Who's Rose?"
If only you knew.
Sitting on his comfortable leather chair, he reached for his cell phone as usual. “Where is it?” he rummaged through all his pockets, suitcase and drawers. “I left it at the side table, Oh god! Text message! Teresa!” he suddenly stood up.
He started to feel strange-- pain? anger? guilt? regret? relief? He didn’t know. He took a glance on Teresa’s picture—a ray of mild sun light shone on the picture, Teresa looked gorgeous. He turned the picture down and slowly sat back.
How and when it started? Since Jane devoiced? Oh Teresa! Teresa!! She was still pretty, but they haven’t much they could talk about. He still remembered all the sweet times when they just met. But something changed unnoticeably. They still took a small walk together after diner, but the walking became so long and endless. They still sat together to watch a movie, but he sometime even couldn’t feel she was by his side. Teresa was graceful and pretty as before. Her voice was so soft and pure unchanged. They never fight each other, and Tom believed that nobody would ever fight with her. But days by days, he felt something was really wrong but he hadn’t known what it was until Jane came...
“But Teresa has been with me for ten years? “ He drew his thinking back to Teresa.
“How stupid I am? Why I don’t deleted all those Text messages!”
“No, this is the perfect time, she has to know!” another voice.
“Is she going to die if she knew?” He picked up Teresa’s picture and stared at her pretty forever face.
“I got to go back to get the cell phone before she wake up!” Tom grabbed his coat and rushed out the office. Stood in the elevator, Tom looked up the display numbers anxiously.
When he finally sat in his drive seat, he promptly started the engine.
But, the car abruptly stopped with a high pith scratching sound.
“If you don’t let her know this time, when and how you can talk to her about all these? Are you willing to stick in her perfect marriage forever?”
The parking lot was silent except the still running engine.
“What me?” I said with unexpected surprise, “how could this be?” I now realize why I was greeted with extra wide smiles from my co-workers this morning. I never even thought I was in the running as there were others in the office with a lot more experience than myself. Right then, I said to myself, “Jason!” He was my mentor in the beginning when I was just the new kid on the street. He was kind enough to take me aside and show me how the gears in this office worked and how to keep them turning smoothly. I respected and looked up to him and I aspired to be like him. He was the more likely candidate for the position, I thought; so then why me over him? I then realized how he must be feeling about all this. “Jason must feel cheated and betrayed.” I worried, “I hope he’s not taking this the wrong way.” I needed to talk to him about this mix-up. I wouldn’t on earth think of accepting the promotion if we didn’t both felt like I deserved it and I know I didn’t. Frantically, I ran over to his desk. “Jason! Where’s Jason?” “He was here about 20 min ago”, a co-worker in the next cubicle said, “I saw him go outside he didn’t look well, he might of went to the restroom”, “Thanks” I said, as I quickly strode towards the hallway. As I came upon the glass doors that separated the office from the hallways ready to push them open there he was looking straight at me from the other side. He had red eyes and a weathered look to his face.
-281 words
The sun poured filling the room with heat. I unlocked the windows and slipped open the screen to let in some fresh air. Looking at outside lush trees, the feeling of dizzy gradually whirled away. I drank a ginger ale after a terrible nausea winding up my throat from my stomach. Feeling better. I'd had the morning sickness for a few days.
Seeking through inside the drawer, I found a biscuit tin box where laying on a stack of old letters and fading cards from Nancy, my intimate in high school. At school time, she was a boss sister in our crowd—smart, pretty, popular, and reliable. Even though we were all busy, and she got married early and completely focused on her three kids. She occasionally called me to say hello and dated me to dine once a year.
I should call her for advice. The idea popped into my head. Pressing Nancy's number. Doo—doo— "Hello?" It was Nancy's voice panting from the receiver. I could hear as well as the noise of her kids. Her voice was always energetic, but somehow after a pause it turned into a weird raising tone when I told her I was pregnant. Why did she persist in believing that I took the artificial insemination? Why did she judge and deny the hospital TA for its reputation? I knew that she had the deliveries in a clinic near her home. But, the point should not be that. I just only needed her experiences during pregnancy. I never knew she was so proud of the sexual order of kids, the old-fashioned thought, she had. She was always better than me. I didn't think she would and she needed to compete with me. I just had twin babies. She really said nothing but the unusual reaction.
A ray of sharp sunlight reflected on the windows forced me immediately shut my eyes. 'She was my best friend. Wasn't she happy for me?' I suspected. I cracked open my eyes, lowered my sight to stare at the trashcan by my feet. Hesitated for a moment, I threw the biscuit tin box back to the drawer and locked it.
--360 words
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