My Squirrely Valentine

Last night a little after 7 p.m. the phone rang. It was my grandkiddos’ other grandmother, who lives close by.

From her voice I knew something was wrong.

“I don’t know what to do,” she said.

“What happened?” I asked, thinking something happened to her mom--the kid’s great-grandmother--who is 90, and lives in a nursing home.

“A squirrel is stuck in my fireplace.”

I breathed a sigh of relief and repeated. “A squirrel in your fireplace?”

Michael, who was sitting nearby getting out his books to do homework, perked up immediately.

She said, “I called for someone to get it out but they want almost three-hundred dollars to come tonight or one hundred if I wait till tomorrow. Do you think Michael can bring his b-b-gun and shoot it?

"Michael's b-b-gun?" I asked, thinking I didn't hear her right.

Woa! Wait a minute. That wasn’t going to happen. First, you don’t shoot a gun in the house—not even a b.b. gun, but I didn’t want to make things worse by lecturing her on gun safety.

Instead, I asked her to hold on, and I gave the phone to Walt, squirrel hunter extraordinare.

It was déjà vu all over.

Several years ago, right around Christmas time, my sister Kathleen had a squirrel stuck in her fireplace. Kathleen’s husband Jim was at work, so she called her daughter Angie then me, and it was Walt to the rescue.

My niece Angie tried to help Walt catch the squirrel, which darted from the fireplace when Walt opened the door. The squirrel sprinted between Angie's legs and hid in the Christmas tree. The squirrel jumped from branch to branch, knocking down ornaments. My sister freaked out because it was her “Irish” tree--the one with several Waterford collectible ornaments.

Long story short: Walt caught the squirrel, but the little guy gave up a fight, biting Walt all he way out the door. As blood dripped from his hand, Walt squeezed, hoping the squirrel would stop biting. But the harder he squeezed, the harder the squirrel bit down. Walt survived, although at my sister's insistence he visited the ER to make sure he didn't get rabies. A few ornaments (thankfully none of the Waterfords) and the squirrel were not as lucky. For Christmas that year, my sister gave Walt a stuffed toy squirrel. It was the hit during the gift exchange.

Back to last night. Before he left the house, Walt found a pair of leather work gloves. He didn't want to get bit this time. Michael put on his hoodie, and when Cari heard what was going on, she rushed out of her bedroom and asked them to wait for her. Michael’s b-b gun, our dog Harley, and I all stayed home.

Less than an hour later, Walt and the grandkiddos came back. They were exicted and couldn't wait to tell me what happened. Walt had caught the squirrel in a towel and released him out the front door, unharmed. And this time Walt didn't shed any blood.

Not exactly a romantic Valentine's night, but definitely a squirrely one, and the makings of a good story.

Storytelling and Strawberry Pie by Cindy Allen

In June Cindy Allen judged the Saturday Writers' members-only writing contest. When Cindy announced the winner, she used the analogy of making a strawberry pie to creating a winning story.

Cindy is a poet, a pistol-packing pilot, a polo player, and a pioneer. How's that for alliteration? I asked Cindy if she could write up what she said about judging, and she graciously responded with the following essay.

Storytelling and Strawberry Pie

by Cindy Allen

Writing crowd-pleaser stories is like baking blue-ribbon pies.

First, one must use the right ingredients: whipped-topping-titles, sweet- beginnings, elements-of-style-strawberries, and pie-crust- structure.

Second, one must use the correct amount of ingredients. The right ingredient in the wrong proportion creates a taste-disaster. Biting into a bakery product that has one cup of corn starch and three tablespoons of sugar (instead of the other way around) causes the pie to end up in the trash pile.

How many times have we heard the following? Title, Beginning, Style, and Structure Matters.

To further our comparison of storytelling and strawberry pie, let’s slice the story pie into four quarters: Title, Beginning, Style, and Structure.

I. The whipped-topping-title is bold, fresh, and powerfully delicious. It gives the reader a heads-up regarding the content of the story. It gets our attention. One way to create a tasty title is to riff on titles that have already been winners, for example War and Peace. Isn’t that more effective than War: What Is It Good For?

II. The sweet-beginning stands for a delicious first sentence and a provocative first paragraph. Using a well known beginning as a starting point can be helpful. In Little Women, Louisa May Alcott establishes the personalities of her main characters in the first four sentences:

“Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents,” grumbled Jo, lying on the rug. “It’s so dreadful to be poor!” sighed Meg, looking down at her old dress. “I don’t think it’s fair for some girls to have plenty of pretty things and other girls to have nothing at all,” added little Amy with an injured sniff. “We’ve got Father and Mother, and each other,” said Beth contentedly from her corner.

III. The elements-of-style-strawberry stands for all of the technical aspects of storytelling. Some components of style are: voice, grammar, and punctuation. One of the best books on style is Strunk and White’s Elements of Style, the time honored style-made-simple book.

IV. The pie-crust-structure is the foundation of the story pie. It gives the reader footing to move around on. In Heather Seller’s The Practice of Creative Writing, we learn that prose structure is made up of bits, beats, and scenes. Bits are images, beats are causes and effects, and scenes are made-up of beats.

Title, Beginning, Style, and Structure Matters. Crowd-pleaser storytelling is like award-winning strawberry pie. They both make life taste better.

Cindy Allen lives in Defiance, MO, with her husband and their horses and cats. She is a graduate student at Lindenwood University in St. Charles, where she is working on her MFA in Creative Writing. In a recent dream, Walt Whitman offered her a feathered quill. She hopes that portends a robust writing career.

Cindy is one of the most enthusiastic and friendly people I know, so I hope her dream comes true.

Speaking of dreams. Some folks dream of owning an expensive car. Here's a photo of Cindy standing in front of one. I believe she told me that at a recent polo match she hurried to get a shot of her standing in front of the car, which probably costs as much as my house.