Introductory Paragraphs: An Assignment for Creative Writing Class

Staying true to myself, I have not really written anything since the last assignment in my last writing class last spring. I am happy to say that I am back in a writing class and producing stories once again. Here are two opening paragraphs that suggest plot situations, which have arisen in small part from my own experience.  That was the assignment, and that is all I have for now. I hope you enjoy!

Hannah feigned confidence as she stepped out of the car.  “Bye, Mom.  I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”  Shrugging her bursting duffle bag over her shoulder, Hannah took a deep breath and approached the doors to the bowling alley.  She knew that a dozen giggling girls were perched inside, lacing up their black and red shoes, and twittering to each other about the horrible crimes against fashion they were committing. 

Getting invited to Katherine’s birthday party was no small thing.  Katherine was easily the most popular girl in 8^th grade.  She wore confidence and flirtation like a sundress.  Her stunning red hair paired with her knock-your-socks-off straight white teeth left the boys feeling a good kind of strange and the girls feeling desperately inadequate.  Her ultra-rich car salesman father could afford to rent out an entire bowling alley for a few of Katherine’s closest friends.

Hannah had been astounded and baffled by the invitation.  She knew that Katherine had not invited all the girls in the class and was surprised that she had chosen Hannah as one of The Few.  Hannah smacked her bag filled with mockably unattractive clothes and thought to herself, “Maybe I am finally getting cooler.”  She pushed open the glass doors having never even considered Katherine’s true intention in inviting her.

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The white board at the front of my third grade classroom brightly displayed the Special Students of the week. Each Monday the chart was updated with the names of the new line leader, line ender, calendar person (who had to know the days of the week in English and in Español, por favor), and milk people.  Line leaders and enders were the envy of the class, and the calendar person got at least three minutes of his classmates’ attention each morning.  Being a milk person held no glory.  The task of the milk people was to carry the correct number of little milk cartons from a malodorous milk fridge to our classroom for lunch.  It was a thankless job which took away precious Lunchables time.  There was one week of my third grade experience, however, in which being a milk person held more excitement than I ever could have imagined.