Creative Deriding, or, Behind the Red Door

Funny you should mention running, Sariah. I am still recovering from running a half-marathon Saturday. The first picture is me saying, "Never again. Never again. Never again."









The second picture is just before I collapsed to the ground, while my loving wife poured gallons of Gatorade down my throat. Since I am still tired from the whole thing, and since I flew from Salt Lake to Seattle to Los Angeles today, I am going to share a story of trials, setbacks, and ultimate triumphs, as mailed to me by our loyal reader, great writer, and good friend, Jon Spell. Glad you succeeded in your quest, Jon. I look forward to having you in my class.




Creative Deriding, or, Behind the Red Door

by Jon Spell

Today, I embarked upon a journey. I expected it to be a short one, so I packed light: MP3 player for some rockin' tunes in the car, cell phone and directions. I left workand drove across town and then hopped on the freeway. I was able to use the cruisecontrol for about 2 minutes before the eccentricities of traffic prevented it. Still, I had Styx Rockin' the Paradise to keep me happy.

After about 15 minutes, I arrived in the locality of Spanish Fork. My directions werestraightforward - south 7 blocks to 300 N, turn right, go 1 block. This put me at roughly 99 W 300 N, which was the address I had written down. My true destination was nowhere in sight.

The closest thing was a Municipal Utilities building. I nearly went to that door, but decided not to. Insted, I called the phone number I had brought with me.


I spoke to Kathy, the receptionist, who told me I was just a couple blocks off. Theaddress of the school was closer to 99 N 300 W. A simple mistake. She gave me some more instructions to follow, including to enter using the mystical Red Door. I drove down and found the high school. Holy Cow! This place is huge. And no Red Door in sight.

Well, ok, I don't mind asking for directions a 2nd time, right? So, I called Kathy, told her where I thought I was. (What painted rock?) and she directed me to the white brick building with a rust trim. Look for the Red Door, she said.I walked completely around the first large building to fit the description, feeling abit more lost than I had earlier. Still no Red Door.


Aha! There, across the parking lot! The Red Door! I walked quickly towards it, feelingrelief at having found it. I shook my head and wondered whether I'd be able to find mycar again. As I got closer to the building, I felt dread in the pit of my stomach. Something wasn't right here. This building is right on the football field. It looks likea ... concession building. But there's the Red Door, just like she told me! I walked slower until I finally stopped. I looked around, but there was no one to help me. I strongly considered cutting my losses and just going home.

Dejected, I walked back to the original white brick building. I sighed and then calledKathy again. She must think I'm a complete moron. Hi, it's me again! Where am I? She laughed and then gave me the most confusing directions yet. Walk into the brick building, going through the southwest glass doors - walk along the hallway and out more glass doors and there I would be. Based on my vantage point, this would put me on the other side of the building, outside! How would that help? But I saw no alternative. This time, I kept Kathy on the line, describing my trip past the "C" classrooms. I endured all sorts of strange looks from the high school students in the hall. I saw the glass doors in front of me and thought, okay, this it. I opened the door, then noticed, there to my right,OUTSIDE of the building, yet still attached to it, THE RED DOOR!

I pushed it open and greeted Kathy, my lifeline and muse, who seemed to take my wanderings with good sport. Finally, I was able to relax and register and become the sixth student in Jeff Savage's Creative Writing class. Now the only thing left is...where did I park?