Creative Non-Fiction (Memoir)

David Bethel is a writer who takes on a diverse range of perspectives due to his upbringing in San Bernardino, Orange County, and rural towns northeast of Chicago. His writing style is like that of a story-teller; he helps the reader to retrace old steps. He's been influenced by Spanish and African American cultures, especially when it comes to music and soul food. His first published work, "The Light-Bulb Bug Bandits," appears in the Pacific Review 2013. "Love Me, Tenderly: At the Imposium," David's latest short story, was published in the Calaveras Station 2014 issue. He holds a bachelor's of creative writing from California State University San Bernardino. He's currently studying at California State University Sacramento for a master's in creative writing.

Untitled Writing Sample:

The bass from the music is much less sharp here compared to the front of the night house. Looking out over the railing to my right I see four main areas: the stage, the bar, the dance floor, and to my left, the lounge. The lounge catches my eye in a big way. There is some sort of game going on; a game where couples from one table are blind folded and taken by their waitresses or waiters to another table. On more than one occasion I observe uprooted couples are not always taken to the same spot. That is to say, they are divided. However, as long as they are blind folded, the contestants are none the wiser. Interaction between newcomers at established tables seems to be only through touch. Speech appears off-limits, a rule of the game I gather from tight lipped participants who make only the occasional laugh or giggle. I observe a man; tall, handsome, and stylishly dressed, unknowingly separate from a woman of equal fashion and looks that could have been his significant other. After engaging in some palm to palm with another woman the man takes a chance, guessing that he is hand to hand with his original partner. Kissing her, the two lips cup one another. This lasts more than a few seconds and ends at the touching of the tips of their tongues, at which point the blind folds are removed, and the fellow begins to realize his error. His original partner, who has been watching, now scampers further away from the scene. Grabbing a cloth from her designer purse, she wipes her face. The man, who does not see her pain, raises himself from his seat and heads for the bar. I watch the remaining participants at the table create quite a stir. Celebration ensues; clapping, hooting, and the blowing of smoke. The woman is given a glass with green liquid. She drinks to her victory.

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