The Casino

Until this past May, I had never been to a casino in my life. The only casinos I’d ever seen were in the movies. You could say it was a life-long dream of mine – to experience it, anyway. To experience the mystery and intrigue of it all... To satisfy the urge to find out what it’s all about...

So, when Jonathan and I attended this year’s Brain Association of Wisconsin’s annual convention in Green Bay, suddenly my life-long dream became reality. Our motel was attached to the casino. We were literally just steps away from potential wealth. (Or more likely from the slim chance that this would ever happen to us.)

With twenty-dollar bills in hand, Jonathan and I made our way past the security guard at the door and strolled on into the casino, trying to look like we belonged there – or at least like we knew what we were doing. We wove our way around the various slot machines, past the black jack table, circled around to the beverage station and then back again. This casino contained probably ninety percent slots, ranging from penny machines to five dollar machines. The slot machines were alive with blinking colored lights, sweet sounding beeps, bells and whistles. And fingerprints.

(Only the second week into the swine flu outbreak, I made a mental note to myself to keep my fingers out of my mouth and to stop at the restroom to wash my hands before we left.)

Neither of us quite sure what to do, Jonathan finally sat himself down at one of the dollar machines.

Twenty seconds later his money was gone.

We walked around some more, thinking and talking potential strategy– we’d better find a different machine or we’d be out of money in a few minutes. Or at least practice on the penny machines first.

He chose a two-cent machine and I sat down beside him. The lady two stools down looked as if she had been there a while. Her elbow rested on her crossed legs as she propped her cigarette precariously on the edge of her lips, leaving her other hand free to spin. Obviously a veteran slot player, I decided to watch this woman.

She had quite a few credits (apparently they don’t spill out buckets of coins anymore) to her favor. When I figured out how she was playing the game, I decided to try it on my own. I decided to go big and risk a five dollar bill. I selected twelve rows and doubled down.

My credits lasted quite a while. I was actually up to $13.85 at one point.

But as my wealth grew, my desire to keep on spinning grew as well. I drove the machine down to zero.

We spent about forty bucks each in two days at the casino. Cheaper than dinner and a movie? Yup. Time spent with my son? Priceless.

Do I need to go again? I think it’s safe to say I’ve satisfied the urge.

Rules, Rules, Rules

A blog post takes me about fifteen minutes once the idea pops into my head. Writing a short story takes quite a bit longer. Especially if you follow the rules.

That’s the main thing I learned in my online writing class. There are rules. Rules that seem to take the joy out of writing from the heart.

But I guess it’s good to know the rules. Even if you don’t follow them.

My first assignment was to write a 250-500 word story using all five senses to describe things. No problem. I have no problem finding the words. I do have a problem with a particular word count limit. I can get really wordy – you probably know that about me already!

In my second assignment I had to interview someone. I learned from this experience that I definitely need to carry a voice recorder with me if I ever plan to interview anyone. So as to not inaccurately quote someone!

The purpose of assignment three was to give me an idea of the structure of a story. I focused on creating a hook – a grabber lead to a story. I had the hook. But apparently I didn’t have the internal conflict figured out. My instructor gave some very thought-provoking comments and set me on a search for my internal conflict.

I searched all week. Submitting assignment four, I felt slightly confident I had found it. But alas, I didn’t. My instructor again poked away at my brain, sending me back to the drawing board to find my internal conflict to interject into the story.

Rewriting parts of assignment four, she was happy with my changes. At last the conflict was identified!!

Assignment five was a big one. 1500 words - using all rules learned. I worked on it for a long time. I submitted it, not quite sure that it was written correctly. And I was right. I found the conflict, but now I need to define the form. Whose story was it? Mine? Was I going to write it as a personal experience, personal essay, as-told-to, or profile in third person?

CONFUSED, I went back to the drawing board and made the changes I could and resubmitted the same story for the sixth and last assignment.

In the end, my instructor told me a lot about myself. She commented, “You are a strong storyteller. Your storytelling skills are evident in this piece as you use dialogue to build your scenes and create suspense for the reader. But you do need to decide on the form and whose story you really want to write.”

So I finished my online non-fiction writing class a bit smarter, but unfortunately, a bit less enthusiastic about having the ability needed to write a book. And a bit less enthusiastic about writing being enjoyable. I’m currently contemplating if I would like to take another class from her this fall.

But blog posts are much easier.

Oops, this post just went over 500 words. Wordy me.