I was damn mad when I left Raymond Carver's office that day! No more little Missy Milk Dud!
OK, Round 1 Carver, Ms Yada, zero. Well, I had another round to go, and I was going to make full use of it. Knock out punch. Yea, that sounds good.
So, off to the dorm I went, took out pen and paper, and proceeded to write and write and write. That night, as the coyotes howled, the short story was ready to go. The FINAL...I mocked Carver's last words to me. "Btw Ms Yada I suggest you make an A on the final! Whoop de doo. Brilliant exit line. You slayed me, truly you did!
I put the short story in a cover, and took one last look at it before I dumped it in his box of crap!
The title of the story was something like "Desert Tomb," based on a personal experience I had at the age of 14.
As I was turning it in, I was still mad, and I thought, Mr. Carver you don't know jack shit about me. Now you will. And guess what buddy? I don't give a flying fuck what grade I get.
We picked up our papers at the English Department a week later. I was still mad. So I grabbed it, opened it, and saw a big red A plastered all over it. Underneath that was a note:
Liz, Great Job! Good Luck in the future! And then he personally signed it, Raymond C. Carver.
My final Grade: Short Story Raymond Carver....A
Final Round Raymond Carver 2 Liz 0
RAYMOND CARVER 1938-1988 I dedicate my first novel to you buddy. Thanks a billion.