Writer notes:
Upon reading Hills Like White Elephants by Ernest Hemingway in my first year of university, I took note of how Hemingway would convey a heavy message through allusion as opposed to literal language. In said piece, Hemingway writes of two characters who meet to discuss what Hemingway addresses as a 'simple operation,' which is later alluded to as an abortion. I liked Hemingway’s simplistic language and how, despite his heavy topics, he failed to address them head-on. I attempted to mimic this in my original piece below. The character of Lexie has recently returned to university after having taken a year off. This break was down to the loss of her parents in an accident and the subsequent impact this had on her mental health and whilst this is never addressed, Lexie resting in her father’s armchair and in the absence of Alex, wrapping her arms around herself, suggests such an ordeal.
Using Hemingway’s technique of allusion, I continued to make implications to Lexie’s struggles. Having mind-mapped the character, I envisioned her having been at a tipping point before the death of her parents, the loss being the breaking point. More than a year on, she is averting her focus to as many normal things as possible. She goes shopping but forgets something as simple as turning off the Christmas lights before she leaves. This was to demonstrate that despite her attempts to move on, her mind isn’t completely focused. Whilst she acknowledges that Alex is “cute” it isn’t until the end that she decides to act on it, conveying her hesitance to get too close to anyone. Alex makes references to the lack of food in the fridge, a problem Lexie had with eating and something that worried him last New Year’s. Said issues all allude to Lexie’s tumultuous year without making a literal reference to what took place. As stated previously, the simplicity of such ideas stems from Hemingway’s use of allusion as opposed to literal language. A second technique is the 'Iceberg theory', noted by Ganesan Balakrishnan in Introducing Ernest Hemingway. Hemingway decided writing in a minimalistic style would entice readers more so than revealing excessive details. Again, it is noted that Lexie almost lost her life on the New Year’s Eve prior to the setting but it is not specified how.
The idea for this prose piece stemmed from my belief that loneliness can lead to destructive behaviour and whilst one can be physically surrounded by people, an inability to relate and feel included can still lead to isolation. I pictured a character going through the stresses and emotions that I and my peers have experienced in the past and paired it with a tragedy. I hoped my writing would explore how she would cope. I have witnessed someone in a similar situation struggle with attachment for years afterwards, hence why Lexie is so reluctant to open up to Alex when she first sees him.
A difficulty that was encountered was dialogue. Having learnt within the seminars that dialogue can sometimes be unnecessary and can slow down the pace, I originally wanted to keep it at a minimum. However, I later decided against this. A character in Lexie’s boots needed to be spoken to and reassured, hence why the dialogue in my prose piece is persistent. Nonetheless, I took note of how speech can take up too much space, hence why I ensured that the piece was littered with descriptions. Lexie’s entrance into her flat in the first paragraphs have no dialogue, yet it is clearly established how tired the character is. Alex’s chagrin at Lexie for hiding how she feels from him is also implied instead of him telling her. This ensured that the plot could move by other devices as opposed to the conversation.
Within the future, my hope is that my creative writing will be more fluent. I had the ending, a New Year’s kiss, envisioned early on. However, I found some difficulty in leading up to that point whilst keeping up with the minimal discussions that Hemingway had preached within his writing. I took the notes on dialogue that we had made in creative writing to heart, ensuring that the dialogue in my prose piece either carried the plot or made implications to what happened to the characters prior to the setting. Whilst I struggled with ending the piece, bringing it together is where I believe I accomplished.
New Year's Eve - Short Story
Sprinkles of snow had begun to melt in her hair as she shivered, gloved hands gripping the doorknob. She twisted it relentlessly and, upon realising the door wouldn’t budge with such wane attempts, resorted to muscling her way in. The door finally budged from the frame and her sore shoulders sagged in relief. Lexie sighed, picking up the bags she had abandoned on the floor after registering her flat wouldn’t let her in kindly and hustled her way inside.
She’d left all the Christmas lights on before she left. Lexie groaned, remembering how the electricity bills were already a struggle. The bulbs glistened cheekily, as Lexie vowed she’d take them down first thing tomorrow. The decor had been Alex’s idea anyway. After depositing her carriers onto the kitchen table and removing her hat, clothes and gloves, Lexie sank into her dad’s old armchair with the piece of paper she’d found plastered onto the fridge.
I went shopping for you this morning. Just because you have leftovers from Christmas doesn’t mean you need to survive off them. We only eat turkey once a year for a reason. Keep yourself busy. I’ll stop by before midnight. See you then.
-Alex
She smiled softly. Alex knew when a bout was about to hit her long before she did. Lexie had been told by multiple doctors that some days would be harder than others, like birthdays. And anniversaries. Christmas would probably be the hardest of them all, and New Year’s being a week later wouldn’t help much. It was on those days, or during those weeks really, that Alex would keep a watch on her like she was a bomb ready to go off. It was strange really, she noted, how she spent the better part of the year floating. Lexie tried to remember a time when university deadlines and food shopping and bill paying and being a person mattered to her. She sunk deeper into her dad’s armchair, wrapping her arms around herself and tucking her hands into her sleeves. It was also surprising how much of the past few months she had spent sleeping, though she would never acknowledge such tardiness. Just for a minute, she told herself, as she closed her eyes.
Lexie could have sworn it was only a minute, but by the time she opened her eyes, Alex was curled up in a sofa opposite her. His tawny hair was windswept and he was huddled in what looked like the warmest of all hoodies. A bowl of popcorn was balancing perilously on his kneecap. He looked cute, she decided, before chastising herself for thinking such a thing.
“Hey,” he said softly, his head tilting to the side. Lexie grinned reassuringly up at him, and before he could ask the question, she answered it.
“I’m fine.”
Alex rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything. He gestured to a steaming cup of cocoa that had appeared on the coffee table which Lexie tenderly picked up, a comforting warmth flooding through her veins as she balanced the cup between her hands.
“Thanks,” she whispered. Alex hummed his welcome, turning his focus to the television. An awkward silence ensued between the pair, the only sound being the crunching of Alex’s popcorn as he engulfed the snack. Upon realising that her hot drink was simply too hot to drink, Lexie placed it back onto the table, promoting a groan from the second occupant of the room.
“What’s up?”
“You. You’re not doing that thing again are you?”
Lexie stiffened. “No.”
Alex thrust his hands into the air, the popcorn bowl slipping dangerously from his grasp. “If you say so.”
“I’m not. I’ll drink it, Alex, I just need it to cool.”
Alex visibly relaxed, but there was still uncertainty written across his features. Lexie sighed for what felt like the millionth time that evening but continued.
“I really appreciate you coming over and all, but I’m really doing fine.”
Alex snorted, but said nothing.
“I know that things were a little wonky for me last New Year’s, but I’ve gotten a lot better this year.”
“You didn’t have any food, Lex. Apart from the turkey and mash my Mum sent before Christmas. I came over earlier to see you and your fridge was as empty as this flat.”
Lexie’s frown vanished as her eyebrows shot up in realisation.
“You shoved your way in here, didn’t you?” she said incredulously, upon remembering the difficulty in getting back inside her flat earlier this evening.
“The things I do for you, Lex. Explain the food shortage.”
“After you explain the need to have broken down my door.”
“I didn’t break it down. Besides, can you really blame me after what happened last year?”
Now Lexie didn’t have a satisfactory answer to that question, so instead she resorted to the first statement she had made upon seeing Alex in her apartment.
“I’m fine.”
She expected Alex to throw his arms up in the air, question her about the food again or at least tell her she wasn’t fine. What she didn’t expect was for Alex to throw a piece of popcorn at her.
She glared at her friend, who glared back, until he leaned back and broke out in the jolliest of all chuckles. After glaring at her friend some more, Lexie’s legs moved at their own accord and she collapsed next to Alex, whose dimples were dancing in amusement. He swung his arm around Lexie and hugged her as tightly as her sore shoulders would let him. Lexie relaxed, her head nestled into Alex’s shoulder.
“I can’t believe how quickly this year went by,” she whispered.
Alex hummed in agreement, his hand reaching up to stoke Lexie’s curly locks. “You haven’t done too badly you know,” he added quietly.
The physical contact was what made the damn inside her break. “I’m sorry,” she blurted out, her confession such a far cry from her insistence that she was fine that Alex’s eyebrows shot up. “For everything that happened this year. Or didn’t happen. Whichever.”
“Hey, you made it through,” he soothed with a wry smile.
Lexie waited a while before she spoke again. “Why were you here earlier?”
“I was worried, Lex. You weren’t answering my calls or texts. Then when I got here, and you didn’t answer the door…”
Lexie winced as she realised what had gone through Alex’s head. “I went out,” she explained. “I needed to get some fresh air. I don’t think I’d gone outside since the week before Christmas. I was running low on some essentials. I didn’t realise I didn’t have extra bedding until the cold weather hit, and by that time everything was closed for Christmas. I nipped into the pharmacy too…” she trailed off. Alex hugged her tighter and she returned the embrace, grateful for the contact.
“How was Christmas for you anyway?” he murmured. “You could have spent it with us, you know. My mum would have loved that.”
“It wasn’t great, Alex.” She ripped the band-aid off. “I really didn’t think I was going to make it.”
Alex had the decency to look surprised, but his eyes were sorrowful. “We had a deal you know. That you would call me if felt like that way.”
“I didn’t want to ruin Christmas for you.”
“I invited you to spend Christmas with me. You couldn’t possibly ruin it.”
Alex glanced at his watch. 11:47PM. 13 minutes until tomorrow. 13 minutes until January 1st. 13 minutes until a new year. The television, which he only just realised had been on during their engagement, was documenting all the highlights from the past year.
“You haven’t done badly you know,” he repeated. “So what if you had a setback at Christmas? I won’t ask what exactly happened, but if you want to tell me I’m all ears. That’s just one day out of 365. Seems pretty good to me.”
He looked down at Lexie. Her eyes were closed, her abundant curls sat delicately around her shoulders. Some colour had returned to her cheeks compared to when Alex had found her asleep in the armchair. Upon realising Alex had stopped speaking, she cracked upon an eyelid. “Go on,” she said.
“I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to do this alone,” he continued. “I’m here. My family are here. Your mates at university aren’t going to be annoyed if you explain to them why you’ve been so distant.”
Lexie made a remorseful sound in the back of her throat and untangled herself from Alex’s hold, her nails digging into the palms of her hands as she squeesed them into tight fists. Her eyes were glassy with unshed tears. Alex, alarmed at the sudden change in mood, back peddled.
“Like I said though,” he said hurriedly. “There’s no pressure.”
Lexie shook her head. “I know. I’m grateful for you, Alex. I was just thinking about what was happening last year. This is my problem, and I’m tired of being a liability.”
“You’re anything but,” Alex calmed. “When I think back to that night…” he shuddered, his own eyes starting to swim. “All I can think about is how I almost lost you. And how there wouldn’t have been a thing I could have done to stop it from happening. It’s the worst feeling, knowing you could be a second too late.” He looked up at Lexie, whose cheeks were streaming with tears now. “Which is why I’m telling you I’m here. And I’m not the only one.”
Lexie was shaking now. “I’m just tired of needing help.”
Alex wrapped his hand around her fist. He didn’t speak, but Lexie got the message. The countdown was on now. Lexie repositioned her head back onto Alex’s lap. This is it. This is the only time you’ll have to ask.
“Have you ever had a New Year’s kiss?” she said quickly.
10, 9
Alex blinked. “Nope.”
“Me neither.”
8, 7, 6
Alex gazed down at Lexie, whose cerulean-coloured eyes shone back at him innocently. He cursed himself for finding her vulnerability so attractive.
5, 4, 3
Lexie closed her eyes, regretting asking the question, her gaze and being so damn needy.
2, 1
He kissed her. And it was short and wet but warm and sweet and tender. Lexie opened her eyes and they smiled at each other adoringly.
“Happy New Year, Alexander.”
“Happy New Year, Alexandra.”
I hope you had a magical Christmas and that the New Year brings nothing but love and light to you and your family.
Best, Karisma xxxx