Women's Writes - Works

Women's Writes

Well-behaved women seldom make history.
— Laurel Thatcher Ulrich
Day 19

Men were definitely in the minority in this waiting room. Taking a quick inventory, I determined that men made up less than ten percent of the waiting group. Young women were scattered around the group, mostly alone or with another woman. Many of the women were accompanied by older women, perhaps their mothers. A few women waited with women their own age, and it was difficult to determine which was the patient and which the friend. The few men who were there shifted their weight uncomfortably, feeling out of place in this congregation of women. This was a place meant for women, and their nervous energy showed they understood that.

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Day 17

The entrance to the tunnel was her only way out. She clawed at the sides, hoping to widen the space because it was too small for her to move forward any further. She worked furiously, not caring that the rocks were ripping her hands to shreds, not noticing the dirt filling her mouth and eyes. The more she worked, the narrower the tunnel seemed to become. Still she dug and clawed, hoping to move forward at last.

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Day 16

Most people are aware of Jacob as the man who worked fourteen years to earn the wife he wanted, battled an angel, and gave a coat of many colors to his son Joseph. But most people are not aware of Dinah, the daughter of Jacob. In fact, when I discussed this play with a friend of mine, told her what I was writing, she denied that any such story existed. Most of the plays I’ve written in this series are met with the same disbelief. “Nope, no such story. I’ve read the Bible, and I never saw it. So not there.” If you doubt my veracity once reading this story, go get your Bible off the shelf, blow off the dust, and open it to Genesis 34. I think you’ll find…well, the story of a woman, and how the world responded to her in the brief time they bothered to notice her.

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Day 14

“You had to go and do it, didn’t you? I always said it, didn’t I? I always said you’d be late to your own wedding!”

Mandy didn’t answer. She slumped into the chair in the corner, too exhausted to stand. Mom prodded at her; she needed to put on her gown and get out there. She was already 45 minutes late. Logan would leave if she didn’t hurry. Why did she always have to do this? Why did she always have to inconvenience everyone? Why couldn’t she just be like her sisters, and show up eager for her wedding, put on a gorgeous white gown, and prance down the aisle in happy anticipation?

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Day 13

The test was ready when she got out of the shower. Her heart dropped as she glared at the faint pink line. This was a disaster. If she couldn’t afford birth control pills, how were they ever going to afford another child? She bundled the test up in the trash, pulled the bag out of the can, and deposited it in the can by the curb. No one would see it…no one would know. That wouldn’t help, she thought. It would be hard enough to hide soon. Besides, who was she hiding it from? It wasn’t like she had anything to be ashamed of…and it wasn’t like she could do anything about it. She hollered to Charlie that she was going to bed early, to not let the kids stay up past nine, and that she would be up early to go to work, so she was sleeping in Meg’s room tonight. She would rather sleep with Meg right now than Charlie.

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New book released: Resolved

Lorelei has always been a good wife. She does what she is supposed to do, and gives Ogden little reason to complain. But when Ogden comes home from his latest dig, something has changed. He is acting strangely, and all the other men on his team are behaving just as odd. The women are puzzled and worried; are their men going crazy?

Buy Resolved by Robin Buckallew today.

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Day 11

It all started when I got married. Menelaus, that’s my husband. He was the king of Sparta. I was told I would be happy. I was told I would learn to love him…or at least to tolerate him and be able to stand it when he put his hands all over me. I was told all sorts of things. I was just a girl. I was too young to be getting married. I should have still been playing, making daisy chains, laughing with my girlfriends. But there I was, packed off to live with a man much older than me, a man I didn’t know, a man who didn’t really know how to love. I was a possession, a trophy. He paraded me through the streets of town to show everyone how beautiful I was, then locked me away to make sure no one could look at me.

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Day 10

Alameda sorted out the books, carefully arranging them in alphabetical order. Tomorrow she would need to take them back to the library. She needed more; she had read all of these. She fingered the title of each book, wanting to commit it to memory, wanting to never forget anything she read. Someday it might be useful. Someday she might need this knowledge. At nine, Alameda was already committed to a life of learning. She had selected three colleges that she was interested in attending, and was doing her best to keep her grades high enough to get accepted. It wasn’t easy, especially sharing her room with two sisters who tended toward noise, and the long list of chores each of them completed every night. It could be hard keeping up with her homework with a nine o’clock curfew, but somehow she always got it done.

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Day 8 - International Women's Day

The rest of the day was like a strange reality show. It was both like and unlike courtroom shows on the television, and it wasn’t even much like the original hearing. Perhaps each judge had their own style, but Amber felt much more comfortable this time. The judge didn’t spend all his time glaring at her, but maintained a neutral manner from the beginning to the end. Her lawyer focused on her case, and was prepared for a major fight if need be. She had prepared pages upon pages of notes, and her brief was thorough and damning. She knew her stuff.

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Day 7

Amber realized this was the woman Brad had left her for, the model he had become enamored with, the one who made his wife seem quotidian, ordinary, down to earth. Amber had never pretended to be exotic, and watching Marguerite now, she was glad she had never adopted that style. The woman oozed insincerity, but Brad didn’t seem to notice. He didn’t take his eyes off her even as he asked Amber to run a couple of errands for him after the kids left.

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Day 6

Amber shifted from foot to foot, waiting for the door. She pressed the bell again, knowing it had a habit of failing to work at the most important times. She resisted the urge to peek in the window and see if anyone was home. He should be home…they had an appointment. Was he just playing cat-and-mouse with her?  She checked her watch against her phone; both showed the same time, and it was three minutes after time. She’d been standing here for five minutes. It was time to go.

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Day 5

I pulled my chair closer to the desk and slid my growing belly into the space designed for a human body without that extra appendage. I glared at the offending protrusion as though it were to blame for my current situation. Actually, I think it probably was, but it wasn’t the fault of the child that was growing inside me. It was the fault of a world that seemed to believe that a pregnant woman was…well, something other than fully human.

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Day 4

Ogden started to crumple the card and throw it in the trash, but he caught sight of the name and straightened. He grabbed the tie he had thrown against the wall last night when he came home and buttoned his collar. He motioned to Lorelei and she brought him the suit jacket she hung on the coat rack last night after he flung it in the general direction and missed. When he arranged himself to his satisfaction, and smoothed his unruly hair, he growled at Lorelei to usher the men into the study. Lorelei rushed to comply, glad she would not be punished for intruding today.

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Day 2

NEIL goes back to the computer, frowns, and starts to type. We see the words “Get off the Internet, bitch”, but before he can hit enter, the screen goes black. NEIL checks the cord, wiggles it, turns the computer back on, but the screen stays black. He begins to hit the computer, first softly, then harder. Finally, he hits the computer screen, but instead of his fist bouncing off, it glides into the computer screen as though it were made of water. He pulls on his arm. It won’t come out of the computer.

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