Dear Debris Removal Specialist John Arnold Arnold,
Welcome to your memoir workshop! In this class, you’ll learn how to tell your unique story—the story we call The Adventure of You. All you have to do is complete seven easy exercises, which will help you put your experiences into vivid, meaningful words. Seven exercises sounds like a lot, but don’t worry! The exercises are more fun than Connect Two, and they’ll leave you with something to think about. You’ll see: when you’re writing your memoir, even a double shift on the debris pile will fly by, because you’ll be living The Adventure of You.
All you need for each exercise is a piece of coal—no problem, right?—and a wall. The one next to your bunk is fine for starters, but as you become more confident, you’ll want to write your words in a place where other people can read them. The door of the pit elevator? Great idea! The waiting room of the Clinic? That’s a good one, too! Just, please, don’t write over someone else’s exercises, because each of us has a story to tell, and there are plenty of walls to go around, here in Enlow Fork.
Ready? Let’s begin!
Exercise 1: In the Beginning.
What’s the first thing you remember? OK, it was the Recovery Room where you awakened after your last reboot. But what do you remember about it? Maybe you had a nice spot near the ventilator duct. Maybe the loudspeaker made a funny sound, like somebody with the Black Cough trying to hum. Maybe your teacher played a hypnopedia tape out of order! (We know, it happens.) We can’t tell you exactly what made your first shifts in this world special, but we know there was something. Close your eyes. Let your mind wander away from the persistent sound of large machines grinding rock. Remember the Pastor’s voice: In the beginning, there was Enlow Fork, and Enlow Fork was all. What do you see? Great! Fix it in your mind: the one small thing that only you remember. Then grab a bit of coal, and find a wall.
Exercise 2: Mealtime.
What’s your favorite food—Toasty Bricks or Squishy Balls? Why? Take a minute to savor whichever one is in your mind, but don’t stop there. Try to see it and touch it and smell it and even hear it. (Ever throw a Squishy Ball at a ventilator fan, just to see what would happen? Uh-huh. That sound.) Now imagine this: the Synod has decreed that from this day forward, only one food will be served in Enlow Fork. Which one will it be? Write a letter to the Synod, in which you use all five of those sharp senses of yours to prove that your favorite should get the nod.
Exercise 3: My Shovel.
It’s your best friend. You see it every day. It’s waiting in its rack at the beginning of every work shift, and when you rack it again at the end of a tough stint of clearing debris, you can almost hear it saying, “Good job today, bud.” What else would your shovel say, if it could talk? In this exercise, imagine that your shovel has a story to tell, too. Where did it come from? What does it do while you’re lying in your cozy bunk, hoping the whirr of the ventilator fans will lull you to sleep? Does it just stand there, or does it have The Adventure of Your Shovel? Go crazy with your imagination on this one, but remember not to talk to your actual shovel.
Exercise 4: My Best Shift Ever.
Imagine if there was a problem with the grinding machines, and you had an entire shift to do whatever you wanted. Would you sack out on your bunk, or play Connect Two all day? Would you volunteer in the Clinic? Or would you sneak out to the fuel-storage tanks, which you know are off limits, and huff benzene? Would you rub your Clone Zone against the latrine wall until you made a wet spot in your jumpsuit? Would you search for tunnels to the surface, even though you know there aren’t any, and you also know that the surface is just a story for kids? Please put your name on this one, John Arnold Arnold. We want to know what you want.
Exercise 5: Strangers in the Night.
You met in the waiting room of the clinic, or maybe it was while you were clearing a jammed hopper. Two identical shapes in the gloom, wearing identical jumpsuits, identical headlamps—but for some reason you didn’t want to hit this stranger in the skull with the blade of your shovel, just to hear the squishy sound it makes. You wanted to grab his arm and pull his head close to yours. You wanted to whisper, I found a tunnel where nobody ever goes. I think it might lead to the outside, but I’m scared to follow it all the way to the end. Then you wanted to lick the coal dust off the stranger’s cheek. You don’t know why, and of course you didn’t do any of those things, because the Synod forbids them on penalty of rebooting. In this exercise, explain why the Synod is right.
Exercise 6: Imagine If There Was a Surface World (Even Though There Isn’t).
We know there’s no world above us. In the beginning was Enlow Fork, and Enlow Fork is all…Right? But what if there were a tunnel that went up, and up, and up, until finally it led you to the surface. What would it look like? Using what you learned in Exercise #2, describe the surface world using all five senses. Although remember that if there were a surface world, the light would be so bright that you’d be blinded, and the surface-dwellers, if there were any, would take advantage of your helplessness to beat you to death with pointy rocks.
Exercise 7: My Meaningful End.
John Arnold Arnold, you’re almost done! You could see the light at the end of the tunnel, if only there were a tunnel with a light at the end of it, which there isn’t. In this final exercise, imagine that the Deacons caught you and your friend trying to escape to the surface, which doesn’t exist. For your own safety, they brought you to a detention cell. Your friend is probably in the next cell, but don’t bother trying to call out to him, because the walls are too thick. Don’t get any ideas about escaping, either. Even if you could open the door of the cell, which you can’t, there would be nowhere for you to go. Enlow Fork is all.
For this exercise, think about what you’ll tell the Synod before they sentence you to be rebooted. Is there something about you, John Arnold Arnold, that you want them to know? You’ve learned a lot in this class, and now is the time to show it off: tell the Synod all about The Adventure of You. There should be a plenty of coal in your cell. Pick it up and begin.