The Monster’s Daughter, circa November 1992
I turned 14 a few days before I started working on the handwritten story that’d later become The Monster’s Daughter. I just pulled out all 120 pages of that handwritten early draft. I’ve only read the first page, but it makes me giggle.
Here’s a touching excerpt:
“So, have you decided yet? Will you go out with me?”
“Rob, I knew a long time ago that I did not want to go out with you. And I told you so, too.”
He gave me a look that said, “I know you’re just too embarrassed to go out with me. You might feel too inferior.” Egomaniacal. And that’s only one of the many reasons I won’t go out with him.
“Anyway, Rob, even if I did want to go out with you–and I don’t–my dad wouldn’t let me.” Bullshit my dad wouldn’t let me. I could skip school for a week, go have a vacation with forty guys and pay for it all with money I took from him and he wouldn’t care. “Bye, Rob,” I said as I pushed myself away from the table. If I didn’t pick up my tray, one of the table monitors would get it eventually.
Oh, 14-year-old Deb, you were adorable! I could just tickle you, if I didn’t think you’d punch me in the face for trying.
Do I have the courage to read on? I’d love to remember the story my 14-year-old self meant to tell, but doing so means foregoing my Jellicoe Road reading time! That’s even apart from the fact reading all those pages requires actually, well, reading all those pages and thus seeing into my 14-year-old brain. Do I dare? Do I dare, especially remembering the very unfortunate meeting between Rob and Ari’s dad?
I’d appreciate it if one of y’all could bust out a fortitude buff!