Blog #3

I keep getting stuck on the fact that Creative non-fiction is “life written down.” I want to be true to my story and true to all of the characters within it. I want the reader to read it and feel like it is actually happening. I guess what I need to do is write a scene and then see how it feels when I read it.

The heat of Nevada hits you as soon as you emerge from any air-conditioned building. You become emerged in the thick heaviness of the heat. Once you get used to the burning in your dry eyes and the heavy breath in your lungs you begin to appreciate Nevada’s beauty. I walk towards our rented Dodge Avenger and I slide into the passenger seat. I have my book, a pillow, and a bottle of water, I feel good to go. I turn to look at my brother in the back seat; he is sprawled across both seats with a pillow and his phone. It is practically his new appendage; I never see it missing from his hand. My dad starts the car with a wide grin on his face. It is contagious, so I smile back at him. He turns up the classic rock station that he found on the radio and pulls onto the interstate. The mountains in Nevada are like nothing I have ever seen. Dried up old rock formed over years of time and ware. The mountains are beautiful but the rest of the landscape is so bare. Sand, dirt, and road cover the miles that are stretched out in front of us. I make a note to myself to appreciate grass more when I get home. I turn to my dad and ask him how long it will take to get to the Grand Canyon. He mapped it out on a map he bought from the gas station. I love that he is still old fashioned and relies on certain things that technology has replaced. He tells me that it should take between 4 to 5 hours to get there.

The drive is long, about an hour in I am bored and I ask my dad to tell me a story from his childhood. I tend to do this often and I love hearing tales from when he was young. “It was a different time,” he always says. I've heard stories about race riots, Kennedy's assassination, his brother's war stories from Vietnam, and free love in the 60's. My dad is a very wise man who learned from the experiences he had while he was young and I never grow old of the world he paints for me. He clears his throat to start up a tale and I recline the seat some more to get relaxed. He starts to explain the closets in our house and how they were arranged when he was young. I grew up and live in the house that my dad grew up in. There is so much family history that lives within those walls. My dad continues to tell his story. “Your grandmother’s closet was in my room when I was young. Early one morning she was getting ready to volunteer at the hospital when she realized that her hospital shoes were in her closet, in my room. So she goes to open the door but it is locked. So she knocks.” I begin to giggle because I have heard this story about a thousand times but I won’t stop him because I love to hear the joy in his voice when he tells his tales. “The knocking wakes me up and I realize that it is my mother and I panic. Your mother is in the bed next to me. We had just started dating and my mother did not know that she slept over. I call through the door and ask my mom what she needed. She kept saying she needed her shoes.” My brother begins to interject, “dad, we’ve heard this one already.” My dad apologizes and leaves it at that. I explain that I don’t mind hearing it again, but the moment has passed. I look back again at my brother who takes up the whole backseat with his 6 foot 1 lengthy frame. He is scrolling through his phone, so engrossed in whatever is on the screen. Twitter, Tinder, and tats, that’s all he seems to care about these days. The boy has made meeting girls on Tinder a hobby. I ask him how many girls he is talking to now and he exclaims, “oh about 6 since we got here.” I shake my head and think to myself, I don’t even have enough time to talk to one guy. My mind wanders to Jeff, the guy I went on a first date with before we left for Nevada. The date was almost too perfect to be true but he was still texting me everyday asking for details about my vacation. I was planning on sending him a picture of the Grand Canyon, if we ever got there. The sun is still low in the sky and I feel as if we have the whole day ahead of us. My eyes start to feel heavy and I force to keep them open. I promised to be a good co-pilot to my dad, just in case he needed the GPS on my phone. A Guns and Roses song comes on the radio and I feel my head drooping to the side. My dad turns and says “Miss, why don’t you take a nap. I know long car rides aren’t your thing.” I nod, because he is right. I hate car rides. Not only do I get motion sickness but also I am an active person. I hate sitting in one spot for hours. That’s probably why I hate my desk job. I let my eyelids feel heavy and I get comfortable in my seat. I let sleep take over me.

When I wake up I can feel the temperature difference in the car. We have the AC on, but the sun is higher in the sky and the heat is thicker. I was awoken by the debate my dad and brother are having. My brother wants to know if we will make it back to the hotel in time to watch the Thursday night game. Today is the season opener for football and the Packers are facing the Seahawks, we all know that it will be a momentous game. “Erik, I don’t think we will make it back in time, but I will try.” “How long do we have to stay at the Grand Canyon for dad? Can we stay for an hour and maybe see the second half of the game?” Although I am a girl I do love football and I get excited for every new football season but that comment made my blood boil. I whipped my head around and I said, “We are going to stay as long as dad wants. The trip to the Grand Canyon is for him, so we will leave when he is ready.” My brother went back to his phone and muttered under his breath but I didn’t want to keep arguing. I decided to look out the window at the mountains. We passed a sign that said Grand Canyon National Park 25 Miles. A smile spread across my face because the worst was over. We listened to the radio in silence for the rest of the drive.

To avoid making this blog post too long I will stop there and paraphrase the rest of my story.

-I will talk about the walk up the trail to the south rim of the canyon.

-My reaction v. my brother’s reaction v. my dad’s reaction

-The couple I met and talked to about the experience

-Our drive back and my reflections on the day

I believe that this concept has enough detail and focus to be a 5-page story or more.

Any feedback?