The Jigsaw Puzzle

When pulling a creative piece out of the void, it can feel like putting together a jigsaw puzzle. The plot has to grip the reader and be reasonable for the character and develop a theme? What I have been learning as I write: you cannot attempt to meet all of these requirements at once. Like putting together a jigsaw puzzle, start at the corners, your characters. Then build the plot - your edges - based on what the characters would do. After, in draft one, you have the characters and the plot, write draft two. You'll have learned what your themes are.Today, the challenge is to build the jigsaw puzzle.***There's nothing funny about high school, when you're sixteen. Girls are mean. Pissed-off gorilla mean. Velma Lewand said this to me: "Glen, I'd call you a freak, but that'd be an insult to David. You're way more disgusting than he is."For reference, David is sixteen and doesn't wear deodorant. He has a good heart though. I know because I can open up his brain like a book, and what I see there is goodwill, and nothing but. Velma Lewand's brain is full of fear. When she really pisses me off, I make sure that Mr. Thatcher can't find Velma's homework. She's gotten a few zeros that she doesn't deserve, but hey, who said a high school needs any justice.My mom tells me that I should be grateful for my powers. She also tells me not to read my brother's thoughts, but a boy's brain in the thrall of puberty is just the shock to the system that I need sometimes. Point is, I can't be the perfect little witch that my ancestors would like me to be. I'd trade it all in if it meant I could be normal for a day. The odd thing is, I can tell that none of the normal kids are happy, but I still want to be like them. A stronghold of logic, I am."What are you thinking about?"My mom's voice is light and beautiful. From the spectrum of Hollywood witches, she's Glenda."Nothing.""Just because I can't read minds doesn't mean that I don't know when something's up."My mom is a seer. She might know what I'll be thinking in the future, if the vision comes to her, but right now my brain's a strongbox."Everything's good.""Glen Orville, tell your mother what you're thinking, this instant."My father's deep voice makes the dishes rumble. Not really. He has no magical ability, like all the men in my family. No one's ever met a wizard."I want to go out this weekend."Mom pauses."Where to, honey?""There's a dance, at school."There isn't a dance at school. Velma Lewand's parents are out of town, and I want to go to her party. Technically, I haven't been invited yet, but I have a plan."Sure, honey. Do you need a dress?""Thanks, Mom. No - I don't think people wear those to dances anymore."I've decided that I want to be queen bee. I've seen what's going on in Velma Lewand's head, and there isn't much. She's just rich, white, and pretty. A princess of privilege. I never cared much what people thought of me before. Still don't. I was the girl who wore all black in middle school. Pretty stereotypical, for a witch, I know. But one day I saw that Velma Lewand doesn't know what however means, and decided to show her what a freak can do.I'm in math class, and Velma is sitting catty corner in front of me. I clear my throat, and toss a note on her desk. She turns her head, and her bottle-blond hair flashes in the fluorescent lights. I keep eye contact and nod. She sneers, but opens the note.What do you think of Craig?I pay careful attention to her thoughts. She is dumber than a drunk with a microphone. Her brain ticks for several seconds before she remembers who Craig is, and I feel her apathy wash over me. She doesn't think about Craig any more than she thinks about math.When Mr. Merlinda turns his back again, she tosses the note back to my desk.He's pretty hot.Craig is, like Velma, a throwback. But Velma is a throwback to Hollywood's golden age, whereas Craig is a throwback to Ancient Greek statues. And he's just as talkative.Someone told me he liked you.I read the confusion in her thoughts. Under the surface, thoughts bubble, unacknowledged. She is hiding something from herself. The note slides back across my desk.Whatever, freak.Now I'm sure I'm getting somewhere.***Hubris (Write something bad): Throughout draft one, I will not have any concern whether the writing is good or not.Characters First: Glen Orville is a witch. Her ancestors before her have all been witches. For Glen, her magic is something that she is ashamed of. She desperately wants to be like the other girls in her class.Private Eye State of Mind: Glen will narrate in first person, in a style very similar to Chandler's.The Slow Train to Crazy: No matter what Glen does, she'll have trouble fitting in.Conflict and Humor: Glen has a funny bone, and the other kids in her class say snarky things to her.Reclaimed Cliches: Glen's descriptive language will make use of a few original metaphors.***The Slow Train to Crazy is hard to enact in a short post. I perhaps have succeeded by not finishing this story.Getting Started: 3Character: 3Point of View and Tone: 3Plot and Narrative: 3Dialogue and Voice: 3Descriptive Language and Setting: 3Revision: 2Overall: 2*Level 2*