Last night was a Writing Workout Session at Write On - our local writing group. We had a fictional interview prompt to explore some character development. Here was the prompt:
Tonight, you will put on your reporter’s hat as the dynamic
feature writer for the “Write On Inspirational Ledger.” The charming but
demanding editor of the Ledger has provided you with three possible assignments
for your next feature story. Here are the tips:
- 1.
Luca Rossi, 81, is closing the local landmark
restaurant – “Rossi’s Ristorante” after 60 years. Rossi has owned and operated
the business since opening, alongside his wife, Adelina, and children.
- 2.
Janie McKenna, 12, recently survived a harrowing
experience on the Rock River. Her mother, who has called eight times, says it’s
an amazing tale, but won’t tell it until a reporter is at the door.
- 3.
Malcolm Hart, 51, is a former Catholic priest
who has left the church to investigate the paranormal activities he says are
prevalent in three abandoned factories in the region.
Activity No. 1 – 10 minutes
1.
Pick one of the subjects above and develop a
list of 5-7 questions you would ask this person for your story.
Activity No. 2 – 30 minutes
2.
Now become that character, and answer those 5-7
questions.
Here is what I wrote based of Luca Rossi:
What made you want to open a
restaurant?
Oh, I loved a girl. Isn’t that why
all men do foolish things? She was the daughter of the bank president. Mr.
Cooper Hall. I suppose you’re too young to know that name. Well, back in the
1960s, Mr. Cooper Hall ran this town. Along with Graham Larson, the steel
factory fella, and Jackson Porter, the mayor. Those fellas were lockstep with
each other, and if you wanted anything in this town, you better check with them
first.
I always thought this girl loved me,
too, you know. She’d sneak out of that big house over on Wellington Lane, just
about midnight mostly, and wouldn’t you know it, I’d be waiting right there on
the sidewalk. No, I didn’t have a car. I was dirt broke. Each night, I’d ask
her to marry me, and every night she’d tell me not until I made something of
myself; otherwise, her Daddy would run me out of town and lock her away in her
room until he could pawn her off on one of his banking buddies.
Well, I had family in the old
country, and they had some connections with a family in Chicago that had some
cash they wanted to sink into something. One thing led to another; I did some
jobs for this family in Chicago, just some deliveries and such. I didn’t ask
any questions, and they didn’t tell me nothing I didn’t need to know.
Once I had enough in the bank, I
asked for a loan to buy an old restaurant on the west end of town, and would
you know it, Old Mr. Cooper signed off on it his own very self. Dud of a joint
really, but with some spit shine and a good Italian cook, I thought we could
make a go of it. Took three years to get all that together. The year I turned
21.
On opening night, I was on top of
the world. That is until the Hall family came in for a table a little after
eight. Old Mr. Cooper Hall in a pressed suit. Mrs. Hall in a burgundy gown with
a diamond blinging on her necklace. And their beautiful daughter, who clearly
had a diamond of her own, shining on her finger, and it certainly hadn’t come
from me.
Did you know right away it was going
to be a success?
I didn’t know anything right away.
The first night was busy, after that barely anybody showed for the next month.
Mostly because I had stiffs working for me, and a lousy cook. What a mess!
Nah, it was two years before
anything good happened here, because that’s when Adelina Capelli walked through
those doors. She was stout, foul-mouthed, but had the goods when it came to
making pasta sauce and homemade pasta. Once word got out about her, the place
was packed every night, including Sunday. We were the first joint to stay open
on a Sunday night in the entire county. It was a Mayor Porter, who said we had
to; there were too many people coming from all around to taste our food, we
couldn’t turn those folks away on account of the Sabbath.
I knew I had to keep Adelina around,
so I made her co-owner and my wife.
What has changed the most in 60
years running a community restaurant?
The prices. I ain’t kidding you
there. I remember folks throwing a fit when I started charging fifty cents for
a steak and a spaghetti special; now these kids scoff when you give them two
quarters back with change. Don’t know the value of that coin.
When I started courting that pretty
daughter of Cooper Hall, I didn’t have a quarter to my name. If I did, I would
have thought I owned the world. Hah. My pops made like eleven dollars a week
working sixty hours at the steel factory for that robber baron Graham Larson.
It left him stooped by the time he was forty, and deaf at fifty. No health
insurance. No nothing.
Well, what did you ask? Oh, what’s
changed?
Kid, when you live eighty-one years,
you learn everything changes, but everything stays pretty much the damn same.
Did you have any favorite or famous
customers over the years?
Ah, couple of ball players through
the years. That old announcer, Harry Carey, would stop in, eat a big meal,
drink a dozen beers, and then stumble out.
I could name a few infamous folks
associated with the family in Chicago that spent time here, but they ain’t all
dead, so I ain’t talking. You can get a subpoena if you want, but I’m not a
snitch, and what they did was none of my business.
Did all the family get involved with
the restaurant?
Ah, my daughters, four of them in
all, took turns waiting tables and working the stove with their mama. They all
got married, though, and didn’t need to work the long, hot hours. Didn’t need
the blisters on their toes and heels. Didn’t want to put up with the handsy
drinkers at the bar. They haven’t worked here in years. A couple of their
daughters helped, but it’s not in their blood. This is work, not a video game.
Oh, and my son. Luca Jr. When he
turned 16, he refused to step into the kitchen. When he turned 19, he never
came back to the restaurant. Said the place sucked the life out of him, like
the rest of us. Well, he got into a crowd of stupid people, and stupid people
do stupid things that end badly. You can look that up. Your paper covered it
enough back in the 80s.
Did anyone offer to take over the
restaurant instead of closing it?
Ah, you want to talk about the mob?
It ain’t the gangsters carrying tommy guns no more. It’s the hedge fund
flunkies who want to turn everything into a chain. Hook people with a good name
and reputation, then turn the food to crap and have the robots do the cooking
and the service. I’m not letting that happen to the restaurant Adelina and I
built. Better off being a fond memory than some hinky joint that’s next to a
strip mall every twenty miles.
What will you do in retirement?
Stay above the dirt for as many
days as possible.
