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Ok so here’s the basics. I’m a 20 year old student who lives in MN. My mom’s family is from MA. She plans to go back there this weekend for a 90th birthday party. Here’s the kicker. My mother is a fan of driving 22 hours straight through blasting 50 books on tape all the way. No peace and quiet! She won’t let anybody drive either. She promised she would when I joined her on the trip last year but she changed her mind. Her car charger is dead which means no way to charge the DVD player so that dies after about 3 hours (less than 1/7th of the trip!).

She was to fly this year because she had credit with the airline but they screwed up her booking and wanted to charge her like $375 EXTRA dollars, not to mention the $200 a rental car would cost her. I said why don’t I come along if you promise to let me drive and I’ll chip in a couple hundred. That compared with what she would have spent on rental cars etc… is less than what the no good airline would be charging. Still though, she refuses to take my car so that I can have the electronics of music and movies, she won’t have quiet, even when I beg because my head is bursting, and I think that this year too she’ll go back on her word to let me drive, as she did in 07. Her ‘no break’ method of travel walking to and from the toilet is her version of exercising and ‘moving around’. Plus she thinks she may just get there by Friday, sleep, go to the b-day party Saturday, leave again Sunday, arrive home Monday, sleep, and have Tuesday off. I can’t even smell the inside of her car without bad memories. Oh yeah, and I’m running low on my anti-depressants. So should I give her the $200 bucks I promised and let her make a simple drive back in her typical style, or go with her?

This sounds terrible. If she reversed her decision last time, chances are she’ll do it again. Don’t go! Don’t go! Don’t go! And if you don’t go, you don’t owe her anything. I have observed that people who are possessive about driving are almost always controlling people. If you decide to go, I’ll send you some pins to stick in your eyes.

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Ok so here’s the basics. I’m a 20 year old student who lives in MN. My mom’s family is from MA. She plans to go back there this weekend for a 90th birthday party. Here’s the kicker. My mother is a fan of driving 22 hours straight through blasting 50 books on tape all the way. No peace and quiet! She won’t let anybody drive either. She promised she would when I joined her on the trip last year but she changed her mind. Her car charger is dead which means no way to charge the DVD player so that dies after about 3 hours (less than 1/7th of the trip!).

She was to fly this year because she had credit with the airline but they screwed up her booking and wanted to charge her like $375 EXTRA dollars, not to mention the $200 a rental car would cost her. I said why don’t I come along if you promise to let me drive and I’ll chip in a couple hundred. That compared with what she would have spent on rental cars etc… is less than what the no good airline would be charging. Still though, she refuses to take my car so that I can have the electronics of music and movies, she won’t have quiet, even when I beg because my head is bursting, and I think that this year too she’ll go back on her word to let me drive, as she did in 07. Her ‘no break’ method of travel walking to and from the toilet is her version of exercising and ‘moving around’. Plus she thinks she may just get there by Friday, sleep, go to the b-day party Saturday, leave again Sunday, arrive home Monday, sleep, and have Tuesday off. I can’t even smell the inside of her car without bad memories. Oh yeah, and I’m running low on my anti-depressants. So should I give her the $200 bucks I promised and let her make a simple drive back in her typical style, or go with her?

I would give much more than $200 to spend a weekend with my sainted mother, but she would never treat me like that.
If the birthday girl is as stubborn as Mom, she’s got a lot of birthdays left in her. Pass this time.

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History
Dylan’s eyes glistened the way they always did when he seen his one year old son Adam. His face his eyes, it made him feel welcome just to know that he was a part of him. That Adam shared both him and the woman he loved more than anything. How could there be a more perfect child? He loved them both, although he was seventeen and she was sixteen it didn’t matter. Why should it all matter? It wasn’t important — no, it wasn’t. He was young and had more life and love than most people over seventy bragged over. Yes, he was foolish of course he was but what man at any age can claim not to be.
Dylan was seventeen but he also had something else on his hands something that no ordinary eighty year old man could even consider as real let alone experience. He had fangs, not some crazy deformity from birth well it could be it all depends on how you analyze the situation, but Dylan had fangs because he was a vampire. Dylan had more challenges than that just connecting him too a world which should not exist, But who can really say what should be real? Who can judge what is normal and not When so many different creatures do exist, alone and forgotten.
Dylan had family, and as explained they do not compare yes they are connected to that unexplainable world and some dig deeper and are a whole new creature on there own. Although Dylan’s family fit in very well they had money good looks, friends, and charm. The last thing on his families mind was not fitting in. Who cared about that most of them were grown up and in love. His father and mother included, although His mother loved his father deeply it was a one ended arrangement and Harvon was Re-married to another woman, Misty. His mother Harriot had been in other non-successful marriages but only one produced the satisfaction of love. Dylan had what he expressed as an uncountable amount of siblings.
There was Selena who was twenty-eight, married and had two wonderful young children. Selena was a very intelligent clothing designer for a New York company which played a crucial role in the Design industry. Caitlin the most happily married of the children, although it didn’t always seem that way, she was twenty six years old and married to Riann James. Riann and Caitlin had four young children who were the most blessed miracle.
Jessie and Jade were the twins wild, crazy and known for excessive travelling. Jessie settled down in New York City, with her husband Ian and their daughter Abbigail. Jade resides in Australia with his wife and baby. And then there’s Jamie.
Jamie is only twenty years old, he has two lovely children and a wife named Lorrie. Jamie is a very talented surgeon. Dylan is the youngest of his family until Misty has her baby, the surprise that they all have to deal with.
The official joining of two families, these days marriage is hardly the sealing of the deal. Although Dylan knew deep in his heart that for him, marriage would be everything how can people separate. How can people out there leave there children? It just didn’t make sense, it never would.
How do people spend years together touching them as if the world depended on hearing there voice, on the touch, seeing them fall asleep. How could any one in there right mind leave a family that they had built upon for any length of time. This world is corrupt, and unjust. One thing that Dylan was for sure of he was in love with primrose, and he loved his friends more than anything in the world. His what? One friend, Donald Bass was his step brother. Dylan loved him as though he was his own brother. Possibly more, Don was the one person that Dylan could see and not be jealous of, not because he was better. No, just because he loved him.
Don was just there, he hadn’t always been although Dylan wished he had been. Don was one of the most precious and meaningful things that Dylan had ever been blessed with. How many people are given the chance to live with there best friend? How many guys could just look at there best friend and be reassured that he was loved. Yes, he knew that he was sometimes he was out of place and mean. Although if Donald only knew that when Dylan got sad, or down sometimes he just snuck into his room and watched him. Never for long, and never letting him see that he was watching. That didn’t change the feeling.
Yes, Dylan loved many people in many different ways
His siblings for being there, his parents unconditionally and the heart stealing, emotion burning love for his girlfriend and child, the love for don which almost compared on the scale of Primrose. And that was saying something strong.

The day had passed without any consideration for the fact that he was at school or learning. Dylan was one of the Most straight A students, and took all advanced courses. It amazed people that he was so smart, everything just came to him. Dylan was going to a very high quality private school and was what middle class would consider as “Elite”. He was part of one of the most craved, and envied society. People wondered how Dylan could even be considered normal. Dylan was as known everything but normal. As he stared into space at the ceiling of the dim lighted cafeteria which was designed with divine British taste, he wondered what a cafeteria needed leather sofas at a wall, and gallery art work presented around the room for.
Dylan assumed it was the schools way to say that they meant business. There was a lounge for students, although none of them recognized it as good enough after all they were rich. The lounge had a deep almost mahogany wood flooring, and the walls were covered with paintings that didn’t seem to belong in a school, with a fire place and books for leisure close by, also there was a pool table, and almost invisible among the artwork Plasma television.
Strangely enough as Dylan walked through the oak doors to the lounge many young men and women were gossiping and moping around. He never understood why the rich always seemed unhappy although with great acting accomplishments to the outsider would seem as though they had one a much awaited prize.
Dylan sighed and went over to a couch sitting next to a couple of girls talking about how this girl in his English class Becky? Was it Becky? Was pregnant and going for an abortion and then for help. Dylan cringed trying not to think of attacking the girls. Gossip was worse enough without talking about killing children and spreading mean rumors.
His mind was filled with the thought of Adams smiles, and Rosie’s beautiful face, he wished he could break out of this school and go see primrose, although she was also attending school, public school and he doubted that she enjoyed two hours of lunch breaks, since she was given forty. His mind continued wondering he had to work later, why again. His father was teaching him good values and he was accepting the task hands on.
Suddenly Dylan had a new thought and an urge, he grabbed his leather bag and bolted. Knowing that there was over an hour left of lunch. Dylan ran out of the school and hopped in a cab. Dylan sat in a little café by himself and he silently walked around his mind again, more alone.
Dylan reflected on when he grew up, when it all began.
Dylan thought about his past about California when he
Was little, he missed California some times but Don seemed to insist that they lived in New York. Where Dylan’s friend didn’t live, well the ones besides Donald and Primrose he wished that he was in California. He thought about running through the field near his manor, where he could play for hours, he thought about the shores and swimming. He loved to run around those fields picking wild roses, and flowers.
He enjoyed California so much, the bustling city and the movie stars. How he missed it there. And that was where Dylan was going.. He was going to California. Dylan got into another cab and quickly was sped off to the airport. Was he insane? Of course he was.. he’d always been that was such an understatement. Dylan bought plane tickets for the first flight that led to Los Angeles. He knew he’s be in a lot of trouble, at school and with his father.
Although Dylan knew if he lived with his mother Harriot it wouldn’t be a problem, actually his mother did live in California that would be his savoir Dylan was going to go to his mothers. Just for a few weeks. He thought about how Rose would feel as he boarded the plane. He knew that she would think that he was just avoiding her. It may seem that way but he would never. Dylan loved primrose more than anything in the world, more than life.
Dylan loved plane rides, endless thinking time he loved to be alone and thinking. He always did, always.
Thoughts raced everything from his breakfast and school to what he was going to do at his mothers for two weeks.
As Dylan endlessly thought he fell asleep.

***
Dylan awoke to the sound of the captain asking every one to put on there seat belts. As he brought himself back to consciousness he stared out the window at the fast approaching ground. Dylan loved the outdoors and walking out of that airport and catching the California air was a feeling he could not describe as anything else but pure bliss. The car rental office was barely five minutes away by walking and he ran down to the doors. It took all but five minutes to rent a Porsche and Dylan set off down the road driving as far as the speed limit would allow him.
The drive was the perfect opportunity to reflect on the life that he would be stepping back into for a few weeks. He would have his father send him his school work, it would be so easy to keep up, after all homework was a fifteen minute job. Dylan drove to his mothers with only his darling girlfriend on his mind. His mother greeted him with the warmest and most welcoming hug that Dylan had received in ages. “Dylan! Oh my god – why are you in California? Does your dad know?” She practically screamed at him in joy and shock. “Whoa mom, calm down naw I’ll tell dad later, and I was just kind if bored.”
“ you came to California because you were bored! It’s a school day!”
“Yeah, I’m gonna take a little break from school and stay here for two weeks, if I can.”
“Well Dylan, if you’ve thought it through, then of course you may.”
“Kay, I’m going to go up to my room mom.”
“Mm hmm”
Dylan rushed up to his child hood bedroom where he had spent his more childhood years. It had barely changed.
The bed still had a blue and black soft blanket on top with five mega pillows, the couch was still black, and his television still had many DVD’s scattered on the top of it. This was home, his home. He reached for his phone the one refuge that the room still held as an attraction.
He dialled carefully making sure not to miss a number.
1-293-555-3489 And as Dylan hoped Brady picked up.
“Uh, hello?”
Dylan hesitated for a moment before answering.
“uh, hey Brady?It’s your old best friend? You know Dylan?”
“Oh, my god! Are you serious Dylan I haven’t seen you in years and years! How are you doing man?”
“oh, I’m good as you know I live in New York City.
“Yeah, okay dude.. you know where I live same old come visit me tomorrow, like – ten am kay?”
“Yeah, of course see you then.”
After seventy minutes of pointless catching up the phone was hung up and Dylan went into his bathroom. The plane ride had really messed with him.

Not to me personally, but if it’s interesting to you then you can be sure it’s interesting to some other people too. Whatever you write, some will love it and some will hate it. So don’t worry about things like that – get on with the writing.

Taylor and A were harsh, but they were right – there’s too much explaining in your story (always try to slip information in subtly, instead of delaying the story to explain relationships or whatever – relationships should be obvious by how characters interact, and the main character’s feelings) and the style needs some work, not to mention the spelling and grammar.

The important thing to remember when you’re learning to write is that it takes a lot of time and dedication. Like learning to dance or play the piano, you have to practice a lot, and the more you practice the more you’ll learn about your strengths and weaknesses, what works and what doesn’t, and you’ll find new ways to do things. Don’t worry about writing the perfect chapter that everyone loves on Yahoo Answers – worry about perfecting your craft in the long term, developing your style, maturing your writing. Too many people these days want to rush out and publish the first story they write, but that’s like arranging to play a piano recital when you’ve never even touched a piano before. You don’t need the approval of people on here yet – just relax and enjoy the learning experience and the wonderful satisfaction of writing what pleases YOU.

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