Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Short story for college: I Really Like Highlighters.

Okay. After an overwhelming response from people on twitter, I have decided to post the short story I wrote for my Japanese American History class. The assignment was to write a research paper, but our Professor said if we wanted to do some sort of creative project instead, we could. So I wrote a short fictional story about a second generation Japanese girl dealing with her parents pressure to get a good job and also her fear of bringing home a white boy.

I tried to avoid stereotyping as much as I could but I apologize in advance if I offend anyone. I am not Japanese and don't actually know what it's like, but I tried to be as realistic as possible based on what I have learned in my course this quarter. Let me know what you think!

*Also, I know people have wanted me to post stuff I have written for NaNoWriMo, but as I have plans to maybe publish some day, I have been reluctant to do that. I hope this is an okay alternative. :)

--

I Really Like Highlighters.

I’ve been working at Toshiba for seven months now. It’s a respectable Japanese company here in America. At least thats what my parents say.
I’m in marketing. My parents were really proud of me when I got this internship right out of college. A lot of my friends had to get jobs as waitresses and baristas, but after the amount of money we spent on our education, my parents think that a job like that is shameful. But here I am at my desk. In my cubicle. There is a box of paperclips next to my computer, and a cup full of pens. I really like highlighters, and try to find any excuse to use them any time that I can. I like to draw little borders around my memos. It brings a little color into this dreary cubicle.
It’s really not that bad. I help figure out new ways to market televisions. Radios. Stereo systems. Well, right now I actually do a lot of data entry for other people who figure out new ways to market that stuff. But I have perfected the ideal cup of coffee. Two sugars, one cream. Stir.
But all of that is about to end. One week ago, I got a letter in my company mailbox. The letter was informing me that at the end of my internship (which is in precisely three weeks) they’d like to invite me to work for Toshiba full time. As a real employee. With benefits!
I haven’t told anyone yet. This is the type of news that is going to change my life. It’s going to change everything. I’ll be working forty hours a week, making money to help support the family, and my parents will be so, so proud of me. Not to mention my grandparents, my aunts and uncles, and probably even the family cat.
But it also means I’ll have to quit my art lessons. That’s another thing I’ve kept to myself. My family thinks I work late on Fridays. Really, I catch the bus and go to the community center where I take intermediate level classes in drawing and painting. I wanted to take art classes in college, but the business program I got accepted into was much too rigid to allow for any sort of extracurriculars. I spent the better part of my four years there studying in the library and volunteering with the Japanese student union. And staring at the art wing longingly.
But with this internship, those community art classes happened to fit perfectly into my schedule, and were easy enough to keep secret. My parents likely would have thought I was wasting my time; not focusing on the goal. But I really like it. It would be a shame, once I got this job, to have to give it up. I’d even started making friends there.
I looked at the clock on the wall. Three. It was time to clock out and catch my bus. The bus that delivered me right in front of the community center left in fifteen minutes. I logged out of my computer, straightened my highlighters, and rolled back across the carpet in my chair. Toshiba was a nice company, really. This was a great opportunity for me.

*
“Hey, Sachiko!”
A sandy-haired boy with a slightly upturned nose waved at me from across the classroom. I blushed slightly as a few other people turned to look at me before I slid down onto the stool beside him. I set my purse down on the floor beside our art table.
“Hi Brady,” I said back. Now that no one else was looking at me, I smiled warmly at him. We’d met on the very first day of class. He’d been going around the room trying to trick people into shaking his hand when it was covered in clay; I’d been the only one foolish enough to fall for it. We’d been friends ever since. “Working on a new sculpture?” I asked him, gesturing toward his lump of clay as I pulled my sketchpad out of my bag.
He grinned at me. He’d been working hard on a sculpture of his mother for the last month, but somehow she always ended up looking a bit like an alien. The new lump of clay signified that he’d clearly decided to give up.
“You know,” he said, shifting in his chair. “The sculpture was for her birthday, and I think she’d appreciate a nice vise just as much as the bust I was working on. And vases are much easier, let me tell you.”
“I would like to learn to sculpt sometime,” I said softly, digging in my bag for my charcoal.
“I’ll teach you!” Brady offered.
I just smiled, not having the heart to tell him I wasn’t going to have enough time left with this course to be learning any new skills.
“Happy Friday, class!” An eclectic woman with paintbrushes in her hair and a long skirt stood at the front of the room. She never spoke too much, because she wanted to give us plenty of time to work on our projects. Generally she gave a few announcements and then made her way around the classroom to check on people individually and give inspiration and advice.
“I just wanted to congratulate you all on how hard you’ve been working, and let you know about our end of term art show. Everyone will get something of theirs hung at the show, but we’ll be selecting the very best pieces to be featured in the main exhibit. You can invite all your family and friends to show them what a great job you’ve been doing here. And we’ll have refreshments! Because no one ever comes to anything unless there’s free food. We know what we’re doing.”
There was a soft round of applause spreading through the classroom, but I just felt subdued. There was no way I could invite anyone to an art show. No one I knew was even aware I was going to these classes, let alone in support of it. As far as my family was concerned, I was at Toshiba right now. Stapling things. Bringing pride to the family.
“Man, I’d better get going on this vase if I want to get anything in that main exhibit,” Brady said, slapping his hands on the sides of the clay. “Unlike you. You crank out those charcoal drawings like some sort of one-woman assembly line.”
“I just have images in my head,” I mumbled. “I find it easy to let them seep out onto the paper.”
“Sachiko Tanaka?”
I whipped my head up. I hadn’t even started my drawing today, and our teacher was already hovering over our table. “Yes, Ma’am?”
She held up a large manilla envelope and waved it gently in front of me. “I just wanted to make sure you were going to be able to attend the art show. I have selected a number of your pieces to be displayed. It would be a shame for you to miss that. You’re very talented, Sachiko.”
I felt myself blushing as I took the envelope from her and slid three different charcoal drawings out onto the table. There was the very first piece I’d ever done; it was actually two drawings side by side, a self portrait of sorts. One had me sitting in an office, at my desk, working on a computer. Juxtaposed to that was another drawing of me sitting on a park bench, with flowers blooming around me and the sun shining down on everything.
The second drawing was a perspective piece. It was the front of the office building I worked at, from an upwards angle, making the place seem dark and looming.
The third piece she’d selected made me feel a little embarrassed, and I tried to hide it from view but I was too late; Brady had already seen.
“Hey, is that.. is that me?” He asked, raising his eyebrows at me. “I sit next to you every day, how did I not see you drawing a picture of me?”
“You were absent one day,” I said sheepishly.
He nodded thoughtfully. “Right. Swine flu. Hey it’s pretty good,” he said, his eyes lighting up as he smiled. He matched the drawing perfectly at that moment. I’d tried to capture his laugh lines but my memory was only so good. Apparently I’d been dead on, this time.
I turned my attention back to our teacher. “When is the art show?” I asked her.
She smiled, taking the drawings back from me and slipping them carefully into the envelope. “In exactly two months when the class is over. We’ll still be picking more works to feature in that time, but I want to let you know ahead of time because I am certain about these. You’re a fantastic artist.”
I blushed, for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Then I realized what she’d said. In two months time, I would be a full time employee of Toshiba. I wouldn’t even be attending class anymore. There’s no way I could make it to that art show.
It surprised me how badly that realization made me feel.
I didn’t say any of this to my teacher; I would tell her later in private. I just said “thank you”. I didn’t want to shame myself here in public, in front of Brady. Instead I leaned over and began drawing a television. Flatscreen, high definition. Thirty-two inch LCD screen. This was my life now.
Class went by quickly, or maybe it went by slowly, I couldn’t tell you because I wasn’t really paying attention. Brady told me about the funny characters he met at the club he worked at. He was a bartender. It sounded fun. I nodded along and said “wow, really?” at all the right times.
After class, I shoved my supplies in my bag and tried to duck out as unobtrusively as I could, but Brady followed me out. “Where are you headed in such a hurry?” he asked me. We usually walked to the bus together. I wasn’t feeling like being accompanied today.
“I have to get home,” I apologized, digging around in my bag for my bus pass.
“Did I do something wrong?” he asked. I could see the hurt outlined in his eyes. No. This was not the reaction I wanted. I was avoiding him to keep him from getting hurt. I knew he wouldn’t take my leaving the art class well.
“No, Brady. I just have a thing. Tonight. I need to get to it.”
He shuffled his feet against the pavement. “I was going to invite you out to dinner, tonight. I’ve been working my courage up all month.”
I paused. “Dinner? Like on a date?”
A flush stained his cheeks. “Maybe you could call it that.”
“But you’re just my art buddy!” I shoved him off, finding the bus pass and raising it triumphantly in the air. I realized how hurtful my words were the second they left my mouth. “Brady, I just - I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”
“No, it’s fine,” he said. “I was kidding myself.” He turned to leave.
“I have to quit the class,” I blurted out.
He stopped in his tracks. “You what?”
“That’s why I’ve been acting strangely. I got a job offer today, and it means I can’t stay in the class. Or go to the art show.”
“What kind of job offer?”
“Toshiba. They want to hire me full time.”
“That stuffy place you’re working now? Sachiko, you’re worth so much more than an office job.”
“It’s a great job,” I huffed.
“Says who?” he asked me, taking a step closer. “You deserve to be getting your art published. Not sitting behind a desk.”
“Well that’s not up for debate. I’m taking the job. I have no choice.”
“Have you accepted the job yet?” he asked me.
“I - no. I haven’t.”
“Then you absolutely have a choice. You can turn it down. You can apply for an art internship. You can go to the art show! Who knows, maybe someone will see your work there. You can do whatever you want. You just need to figure out what that is.”
Nobody had ever seemed to care much about what I want. It had always been “what was best”, or “what was good for the family”. I didn’t even know how to think in terms of what I wanted.
“It’s not that easy, Brady. You don’t know my family.”
“Maybe not, but I do know you,” he said, trailing off. And then he kissed me.

*

Why I decided to invite Brady over to meet my family that night, I can’t explain. Why this would be a good idea in any lifetime is beyond me. But when he kissed me, I knew that everything had changed. He was not just my art buddy. For the last few months, when we’d talked and laughed in class, admired each other’s work, something had been happening between us that I had been so blatantly ignoring.
And now I was bringing a white boy home to meet my incredibly, incredibly Japanese family. This was probably not going to go over well. But I thought, if I could conquer this fear, maybe I could face my difficult decision with my job as well. Baby steps.
We took the bus, and he held my hand as we sat next to each other on the hard orange seats. I liked how our hands looked together. His strong sculptors grip clasped around my dainty yellow mitten. As we got closer to my stop, I felt butterflies in my stomach. This was the worst idea. A horrible idea. Surely my family had already eaten, so it’s not like I was inviting him to dinner. We were going to stand awkwardly in the foyer while my family gawked at him. And even though I was nearing twenty-three years old, I’m sure I would not be allowed to take him up to my room. I almost wished I could take back my offer for him to come over, but it was too late now. We were two stops away.
Eighty-fifth street.
Eighty-seventh.
Ninetieth.
“This is me,” I said, getting to my feet. Brady followed suite, still holding my hand. We got off the bus together, giving the driver a little wave of thanks, and a moment later, we were standing in front of my house. The lights were off. That was weird.
“You look nervous,” Brady said. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” I said, lying. “I’m fine. Let’s go inside.”
We walked up the front path, and at the door, I fumbled through my keys to find the right one. I unearthed it from my massive keychain, and heard the click as I turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open. Everything was completely dark inside, which was unlike my family. Someone was always home at this time. My grandparents tended not to even leave the house, usually.
“Hello?” I called out, taking a step inside. Brady reached for my hand but I pretended to not notice, crossing my arms over my chest. Best not to shock them with hand holding, yet.
All at once, the lights flew on and it seemed like people were jumping out at me from every direction. “Surprise!” they yelled, and I could see streamers and hear little noise makers and there were a lot of happy smiling faces scattered around the foyer.
“What?” I asked unintelligently, taking a step back and accidentally stepping on Brady’s toes. He caught me with both his hands, which I was thankful for, because I almost lost my footing entirely. I realized a few awkward moments had gone by without me saying anything at all, and the sheer joy I had seen on the faces of my friends and family (and were those some of the neighbors in the back? The local grocer?) had changed to confusion as they stared at Brady behind me.
“What’s going on?” I asked, completely dumbfounded. It wasn’t my birthday.
My mother scooted forward through the crowd and waved a familiar looking envelope at me. “I saw this on your desk. I’m sorry for snooping, Sachiko-chan, but how could you keep this news from us! We are all so thrilled for you!”
My letter. Everyone knew, now, about the job offer. There was no way I could turn it down now, being it was out in the open like this. I realized how closely I was still standing to Brady and jumped away from him.
“I wasn’t ready to tell everyone yet, Mom,” I said under my breath.
She stared at me, confusion in her eyes. “But why? What honorable news! This is so great!”
“Maybe I wasn’t sure yet!” I cried. I didn’t want to make a scene. This wasn’t polite. Everyone had come over in my honor and I was being ungrateful. “Can we talk in the kitchen, Mom?”
My mother was glowering, but nodded.
I grabbed my little brother Ren and said, “Hey kiddo, meet my friend Brady. Show him the punch table, would you?”
Ren shrugged and motioned for Brady to follow him. I mouthed the words “I’m sorry” in Brady’s direction before following my mother into the other room.
“Sachiko, who is that?” my mother asked immediately.
“That’s not what we came in here to discuss, mother.”
“I would still like to know.”
“A friend,” I said simply.
“He doesn’t look at you like he’s just a friend.”
“Mom, I don’t want to talk about that right now. I want to talk about this party you threw behind my back.”
She threw her hands up in defense. “That’s how surprise parties work!”
“What if I didn’t want a surprise party? What if I’m not sure I’m taking the job yet?”
Her gaze was stern. “What else would you be doing with your life to make you not take this job? This job is a wonderful opportunity.”
“I don’t know if it’s the best opportunity for me, though.”
“Oh? And what would be better?”
I didn’t want to say it. Not here. Not like this.
“Sachiko.”
“Art,” I said. Oops. There it was.
She stared blankly. “Art?”
“I like art, Mom. Not business. Not marketing. I like to draw.”
“You realize how foolish you sound right now?”
That stung. This was why I kept things to myself. “Brady believes in me,” I said. That was a mistake, but I couldn’t stop myself.
“Is Brady that white boy out there? He doesn’t believe in you. White boys only want one thing from girls like you.”
I felt a fire growing inside me. “That’s not true, Mom. Brady is kind, and nice, and wants me to do what I want to do. Not what you think is best for me.”
“I want that boy out of my house right now, if he’s planting these silly ideas in your head. Who is going to pay you for being an artist? Who is going to care about what you draw?”
“Lots of people care! My art teacher chose my pieces to be featured at the art show!” Another mistake. I couldn’t stop myself tonight.
“What art teacher? Sachiko, what are you talking about? What has gotten into you? Come back out here and enjoy your party, and let’s forget about this nonsense.”
“It’s not nonsense!” I screamed. I was going to seriously regret every decision I was making tonight, but I didn’t care. It was done now. “I’ve been taking art lessons behind your back, and I’m good, Mom. I’m really good. And it makes me way happier than working at Toshiba ever has.”
“Life is not about silly hobbies. It is about working hard and doing the best you can do. Which you will be doing, if you take this job,” my mom said slowly.
“No, Mom. I would be selling myself short if I ignored my gifts. I can work hard at my drawing too. And I know it would be hard. But it’s what I want to do.”
Apparently I was making my tough decision right now. I barely even recognized my own voice as I was talking to her.
“I don’t want you to see that boy anymore,” my mother said in retaliation. Her calmness was almost more scary than if she were yelling at me.
“It’s not his fault,” I spat. “He’s the one who opened my eyes, but I have come to this conclusion all on my own.”
With that, I spun on my heel and re-entered the room with the party. Brady was eating cookies with Ren and my sister Mariko, and everyone else was standing around awkwardly. I grabbed Brady by the elbow and then turned to face the room.
“I appreciate all of you coming here to celebrate my job offer, I really do. Due to circumstances in my life, I am not going to be taking the job. I’m sorry for wasting your time. Feel free to stay and eat refreshments. I think Ren just got a hundred percent on an algebra test, so you can celebrate that.”
I turned to Brady. “Want to get out of here?” I said to him.
He didn’t ask questions, just nodded. “Whatever you want.”
We were walking toward the door when I thought of something. I turned around again to face the group. “By the way, I have an art show in about two months at the community center in town, if anyone is interested. A few of my pieces are being featured. I would love it if anyone wanted to come.”
I saw my mothers face as she stood at the doorway to the kitchen, looking disappointed and upset. Not to mention embarrassed, in front of all her guests.
She would forgive me. I knew she would, with time. But for once in my life, I needed to do something for myself. I slipped my hand in Brady’s, in front of everyone, before leaving the house.
“Maybe we could go get that dinner, after all?” I asked him once the door had shut behind us.
“I’m proud of you, Sachiko,” he said. Then he didn’t bring up the disaster that had been my party again for the rest of the night. “How about the Olive Garden?”

--

Thanks for reading! :)

60 comments:

DoomAngelKitty said...

I like your story. Very nice. =D

You should do this or something similar for NaNo next year or something like that. Just an idea.

Nikaia R said...

This is really good! I'm impressed by your story writing skills, although I should have guessed they'd be good based on your blog writing skills.

jenny said...

Good story Kristina! A nice interruption to an otherwise boring afternoon. :)

Beckii said...

Wow, what an amazing story :D
Im really glad you posted it, it took my mind off things, and I could relax and just read a story after an extremly long and tiring day lol

Christina said...

I read this paper instead of studying for my Calculus final, and I don't regret it. Because I hate calculus. I would use any excuse to distract me from studying.. hahah

It was a nice story, especially since you wrote that in only a few hours!

Jess said...

veryveryveryveryveryextra awesome

Jaime said...

I hope you get a good grade on this. :]

iacciosnitches said...

This is great, Kristina. You're a really, really good writer.

I wish I wrote like that in English (I'm Spanish, btw).

Chrystie said...

I really liked it! Your work reads very smoothly... nice :) thanks so much for sharing.

kira902k said...

I love this, Kristina! I don't know if it's helpful, because you may have already turned this in, but there's a paragraph near the beginning, after the art teacher tells them about the art show, where you suddenly switched to third person, and then back. It was probably just a mistake, but I thought I'd let you know.
Otherwise, I thought it was great. You had several really awesome lines and I loved it. :D
You're so awesome, you know that?

-alex

Meira said...

Really wonderfully written! It's a great perspective and didn't feel at all like a stereotype.

Also, this made for an excellent distraction from studying for finals, so thanks for that as well. =)

Elizabeth... said...

I got so engrossed, when I got to the end I was like, "oh yeah! this is Kristina's blog!"
:)
You use lots of short sentences. I like it.

thatnerdholly said...

Like someone aforementioned, your writing reads very smoothly.
I like this character Brady. Wouldn't happened to be based on a certain somebody? Sandy hair? Slightly upturned nose? *cough luke cough*?
Haha, awesome story, I hope you get a great mark for it.

TheOtherJessica said...

You are an AMAZING writer! I was really drawn into the story..haha, I found myself getting nervous when Sachiko confronted her mom! Haha, for a quick essay for class, it was pretty amazing! I'm 100% positive I will find myself reading your books one day :)

karlaj said...

This is a really good read. :) My computer shut down when I was like halfway through it, and I couldn't get it to restart fast enough for me so I could continue reading. That said, it was really touching and the first person made it personal. I for one am not very good at writing fiction in first person, so I always appreciate it when I can read a story in first person and get caught up in the moment of the story.

Foxy Roxy said...

Wow Kristina, this was SO good! Made me wish I could write that well :)

Kristi said...

I really liked this, Kristina! I myself am Japanese American (second gen if you go by my mom, fourth if you go by my dad), so I totally understood where you were going with the strong expectations of a parent and the difference of living and growing up in America.

Andrew said...

Thanks for letting us read it Kristina. I thought it was really good and like all the other commenters i wish i could write like that. There was one small spelling mistake in the middle where you wrote vise instead of vase though so hopefully you havent handed it in yet :).

anyways love you xx

p.s. verification word was STROP, nice.

Emma Ming said...

that was amazing!
you should definitely write more!

Madeline said...

Kristina, this was a great story!! You're an awesome writer and I hope we all get to read more of your fiction someday!!

sharizzle09 said...

WOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW. I am completely in awe. I literally was on the edge of tears through some of this, just because its the cutest romance in the world- I want a BRADY!!- and the writing is SO perfect. I FELT everything. This is better than the millions of fluffy, substance-less YA novels out there- this is POWERFUL and has an edge of truth to it that makes it BEAUTIFUL. I just absolutely inhaled this story. I never realized how good a writer you are. Without having read any of your fiction work, I was a little skeptical about how good your writing could possibly be.. I know lots of people who think they are much better than they actually are, and I know myself, that I SUCK at fiction writing, though I love to read. BUT YOU ARE INCREDIBLE. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE pursue publishing novels. I will read all your novels over and over and over and over. Good luck with all you pursue!! LOVELOVELOVE -Sharon

Also, this story was such an awesome reward for finally getting through all my final exams! :]]

the_who_ru said...

This is really good! You are such a good storyteller, and I love your writing style. I really hope that you keep writing, and I wish you the very best of luck in everything you choose to pursue. :)

DFTBA
~Verity

Larangutang said...

Loved the story. You put a lot of visual stuff in there. :]]

Rushingrapids said...

Hi! I follow you on Twitter, and I saw this post come up and decided to check it out.
Favourite quote: "As far as my family was concerned, I was at Toshiba right now. Stapling things. Bringing pride to the family."
I feel like the story could have used a lighter touch, the drama was very stark. Maybe in part because everything happened with such rapidity.
At the same time, though, I think the starkness is what makes the humour so great. Maybe it needs more contrast between Sachiko's dry American sensibilities and those of her traditional Japanese family?
And I wish the highlighters had shown up a little more, I think you could play with that crossover into art.
Thanks for writing this. It's sweet and it's funny and it was brave of you to do it.

partyweetow said...

I really liked this. It reads like a novel, which is a good compliment, I think. :)

Also, I hope this doesn't freak you out or anything (I would), but there's a typo. :\ When Brady mentions the vase he wants to sculpt for his mom, you typed it "vise".

kittenpaws33 said...

This was a very lovely story :)

I'm not sure if you submitted it yet, but you have two small grammatical errors: Brady is going to make a "vise" and his hand on the bus is a "potters" hand.

I really enjoyed your style, and I hope your teacher does too! Thanks for the pleasant break from studying for Sun and Stars

Katie said...

Does your protagonist happen to have a lovely grandmother named Mimi and an addiction to junk food??

;P

Good story, I liked it a lot. I don't think it's racist either. I lived in Japan for a few years growing up and I took a Japanese History course in college too, which talked about the very things your story addresses. So good work, keep it up! :)

Katie said...

P.S. My laptop is a Toshiba, whoooooo!!!!


(Also, you may be getting sick of the plethora of editors that read your blog, but "Brady followed suit" when they got to Sachiko's house.)

Kiana Ayala said...

I really love this.
Thank you for posting

meraki said...

AH. First off, the title is absolutely darling; Highlighters are my best friends.

Next, as an Asian-American myself, I could relate so much to this. I really admire the main character and how much courage it took for her to confront her mother about her dreams. Really.

I enjoy your writing style and how simple the structure is. Basically, this was a lovely part of my evening. (I should be doing Calculus homework.) Thank you for sharing!

Elisabeth said...

You say it was too long but it wasn't long enough! I wanted to see what happened next... :)

Kat said...

Where is this supposed to be set? Just curious. For some reason I automatically associate 90th street with upper Manhattan, but it seemed pretty clear this was not set in NYC.

I'm from California, so I guess most Japanese kids I know are third or fourth generation. Are there currently many second generation Japanese Americans? Are they clustered in any particular regions?

Manderiffic said...

I really like it! I love your blogging style and I love your writing style as well. It's easy to read and interesting as well. A+ :)

Callidora said...

I love your story. It was very captivating.
:o)

alanasays said...

Kristina! That was amazing! You have such a talent! Don't take this the wrong way, but one of the great things about it was that I didn't feel you in the story at all. I could get into her world and not be constantly reminded that it was Kristina Horner writing about being someone else. The story was great for what it was not just because it was one of my favourite bloggers writing it. You should be very proud.

Emily said...

Oh my goodness, Kristina, you are an amazing writer! And I say that honestly, because I'm actually kind of picky with it comes to literature. But this seriously amazing! It makes me want to read more of your writing! Publish that book soon, yeah? <3

kitashi said...

This is really well done! I enjoyed it greatly ^^

KatOfDiamonds said...

hrmph... you see there is a problem with your writing...




...i want to read more when i finish!!!

well done!

The Vagabond said...

Kristina, this was amazing. Seriously. I literally forgot what I was reading for a second and had to remind myself that I was reading someone's blog and not a published piece of writing. This looks absolutely publishable!! Great job!! : )

~Varshaa~ said...

I. LOVED. THIS. Amazing, really.

Joella said...

I really liked it :D

Hege said...

I really liked the story. I started reading and I just fell so in love with it. Keep up the good work !

nicoleeeyyynyquil09 said...

wow this was a good story :)
I really liked it.

Sarah said...

Great story Kristina! I have to admit, when I first saw how long it was, I wasn't sure if I was going to read it, but once I started I couldn't stop! You're a really good writer and I can definitely see myself reading your books someday. Keep it up!

nerdfangirl said...

Okay. Definetly buying that book as soon as it comes out. You're an amazing writer.

bookwormdaisy said...

Woah! This is seriously awesome, Kristina. You have mad writing skillz. Brady and Sachiko are so cute! XD

Keep up the winkitty writing!

That other girl said...

I liked the idea behind her story what I want to know now is, does anyone show up to her show?

larface said...

That was so great! I love how well you developed Sachiko in such a short story. :D

Lindsey said...

Your writing is so lovely :) I think I might refer to this the next time I have to write a short story.
<3

Keira said...

that was an awesome story! you have a talent for drawing people into your stories... but i really dont think it has anything to do with japanese people =_=;; i know you said you werent trying to stereotype and all, but i was minorly offended that this could replace a "research paper"...

Cat<3 said...

This was brilliant!

Just the inspiration i needed to finish my own short story for school (:

Katzie said...

Whoa! That was great! I want my life to me like that :P

shaylaluna said...

That was very interesting and probably a whole bunch mre fun to write than an essay. I especially, enjoyed getting to read some of your literary writing, because when you undoubtedly get published I will want to buy your book.

marchhatter said...

I kind of reallly love this story, amazing interesting and kept me reading untill the end. Please keep on writing

-Alex the MarchHatter

(oh here is the word verification: houttann, pronounced WHO-tan, and it is something you yell when you drink falls over or it might be a new mixed drink with rum and cream soda)

Catharine said...

I'm a little late reading this, but I was in the middle of finals craziness and didn't have time to read it when you posted it. Anyway, I just wanted to say that I really like reading this. I've written some short stories too, but I would never be confident enough in them to turn them in to a professor or post them on the Internet.

Frayda said...

great story !

Lizzy? said...

WOW. That's all I have to say. You are an amazing writer and I would for SURE buy any book that you could get published!!

Keep it up!

Research Writer said...

I appreciate the work of all people who share information with others.

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M said...

This is really, really good! I'd like to read more or her story. Keep writing Kristina. I love your blog and youtube channel. <3
-A Unicorn Warrior :)

sowmya said...

These stories are really great. Its really a great concept chosen in this post.
Funny College Stories