Susan in Wonderland

Chapter 3

Susan remembered the conversation that her friend Lauren and she shared on the bus going home that Friday.

"Why do you want to publish a book? Do you want to publish a book just for the sake of publishing it?" asked Lauren.

"Well yeah! It's a big accomplishment. Plus, I could pay for anything I ever want to, and I wouldn't have to work another day in my life!" said Susan enthusiastically to her friend.

"Well, then you aren't ready to write a book" said Lauren.

Susan sighed.

"You should write a book because that's what you want to do, not because you expect anything out of it. It's as if it were the same thing with love - if you have a reason for doing it, then there isn't a reason to do it in the first place. If you don't love it, don't do it."

Screw Lauren, she didn't get it. Who wants to work? Who doesn't want to be rich? She doesn't get it, but Lauren was always much more smarter than she was and it was pointless to fight with her. Susan felt herself crying inside.

Susan had her own journal because that was what her therapist recommended when her parents fought. She began to journal frequently when she was a student at The Partake School.

Susan decided to climb up on the roof after everyone had left that night, despite the mosquitos that would join her and her parents would yell at her for sitting outside. She always said, "Yes, I'll be right back to watch Star Trek" and eventually her family would give up on her. It wasn't as if they sat together on the couch anymore like they used to - hardly for more than 30 minutes compared to the hour long movies they used to watch.

The moon hung high in the sky and Susan felt chosen by her great grandmother. It was as if some part of her great grandmother lived on in her and she could feel it within her bones. Yet, Susan also knew this was all in her head. She imagined that this is what people meant when they said "Pray to God" but she wasn't sure if she was praying to this imaginary figure or just talking to herself.

"I want to write a novel," she told her grandmother, staring up at the sky that was remarkably dark in her barren and silent neighborhood.

"I want you to show me how to write a novel."

Susan imagined at that point that she would be taken by a magical sleep, but instead gnats started to bite her face. She went back into her living room to see her mother staring at her from behind her glasses, saying, "What, you imagined you were a princess honey? Please, I tried that trick years ago and I'm still here. I even had to marry your father."

Susan sat down, exasperated, staring at her hands.

"There are no fairytales Susan," said her mother, "Only metaphors. If you want to lose yourself in art, go ahead and do that - just don't expect to escape your life in the confines of a story. Life hardly ever stays in a story-format sweetie."