Holden's writing corner

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Holden Caulfield

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Joined: Tue Mar 04, 2008 9:44 pm

Location: A Central Park Bench

Post Thu Apr 10, 2008 6:18 am

Holden's writing corner

Okey folks, this is a piece I did for a creative writing class a while ago. It's not a masterpiece, more like a first draft of something, but the topic seems relevant to the board so I'll post it here. Keep in mind that the piece is written from the perspective of a young person, but what I wanted to do with it was to comment on how the Scientology beleif system interferes with peoples lives from the very moment you come in contact with it. Feel free to comment, I never got the chance to workshop it anyway.

It's a fictional piece.


Holden Caulfield wrote:Smirk sale.

On spring afternoons, when the sun was out, I would sometimes go sit with my best friend Josh in the park after school. There was a bench underneath a strip of oaks overlooking a fountain pond and a skateboard ramp that we used to sit on, not far from the city centre. When we didn’t skate, we would just look at people, and talk.
He and I had been friends since first grade and we knew everything about each other. And I mean everything, from the smallest anatomical details to the most abstract and unattainable future aspirations. We’d had our disputes, as any friends would’ve, but I think it’s safe to say that he was the only person I deeply, truly cared about. Family doesn’t count in that matter, because families are package deals. Friends you don’t have any bonds to unless you both create them, mutually and on the same frequency. Josh and I were tuned in to the same frequency in a lot of ways. We spoke the same language.
What I remember best about him is the seemingly harmonious person that he was, in the sense that he never overtly complained about things, or never turned judgmental towards others. He had this aura around him that radiated tranquility, or serene joy if you will, although I knew of the problems around him – and they were many. In hindsight, he was probably more troubled that he’d let me see, or maybe because I didn’t want to see it. What I saw then was someone who was strong and resilient to the harshness of life, something I admired, and a feature I also wanted to possess.

When we were high school seniors and both had turned eighteen – he in January and I in April – we started to plan a trip together. We would do South-East Asia, a six month trip starting the coming winter, just the two of us. The time of our lives. When he’d turned eighteen he’d received the money from his dad’s life insurance claim and had no plans to work for the summer, but I’d have to work for my dad in his office to save up for it. The trip was only one of many things we talked about, and sometimes it was almost as if we met mostly to talk about things we wanted to do, ideas we wanted to realize, usually subtly implying that it should be in each others’ company.
At the time, we went to different schools, as we had done since eighth grade when his dad died and he and his mom had to move to a smaller place. Although our backgrounds were very different and we only had a few mutual friends, we’d always kept in touch, saw each other often, and talked on the phone almost every day. That spring day we sat in the park was the day when all that started to change.
I was feeling down because the girlfriend I’d been dating, Ashley, broke up with me and Josh had the affable patience of listening to me whine about her although he was explicitly envious because he was still unlaid and would rather have me talk about the graphic details of sex and what it was like. He was trying to deter my angst by steering the conversation in on the fun we’d have on our coming trip when we noticed two people, a man and a woman, walking towards us.
They stopped to give us each a flyer for a self-help book with a belching volcano on the cover and asked if they could talk to us for a few minutes. I was cautious, but as Josh was the more curious and open one, he said it was OK and they sat down next to us. The woman introduced herself as Amanda. She was in her 30s, Hispanic and tiny, and she spoke in broken English. The guy’s name was Mike, and he was a lot younger, maybe only a few years older than us, and kind of skinny. He talked less but seemed to watch us closely.
Amanda asked us if we’d ever heard of Dianetics, and we said no. She said it was a self-help technique that had been around since the 50s that anyone could use to make their lives better and improve their self-esteem. I didn’t care, but Josh seemed interested. They offered us to come to their office to take a personality test and get a free demonstration. Before I could say “thanks, but no thanks”, Josh was already on his feet, ready to go with them.

Their office was a five minute walk away, on a back street. A small sized place with large windows and plenty of volcano motive-posters plastered on the walls. It looked like a regular office, or a book store only selling one book, and the few staff members were keeping themselves busy with phone calls, photo-copying and other office duties.
Amanda had us sit down by a desk and handed out a questionnaire and an answer form. The test, she said, is called the Oxford Capacity Analysis and was developed in Oxford, by which I assumed she meant the University, and consisted of two hundred questions. From our answers they could then give us a personality evaluation and help us zone in on our problem areas so that we could work on them.
I was just about to say to Josh that the quicker we were done the sooner we could get out of there, so we should just check the sheet randomly. But Josh was reading each question minutely, scribbling and erasing in the mark sheet with intense accuracy. Seemingly pointless questions like “do you sing or whistle just for fun?”, “do you often ‘sit and think’ about death, sickness, pain and sorrow?” and “do your past failures still worry you?” made me think that they were actually interested in making a broad and correct personality assessment as opposed to those lame depression quizzes or puzzles that we got to do in school.
When we were done Amanda and Mike sat down with each of us to give an evaluation. They showed us a graph with our personality traits, each trait marked on a plus scale with a minus counterpart, deviating from an assumed desirable middle section. The overall combinations of the traits were our personalities. On the scale, I’d marked low but not below zero on “happy” and below zero on “critical”, which was the counterpart of “correct estimation”. So to me, they said that I was critical, and that it was holding me back from achieving my goals, which kind of made sense to me and I could see the logic of the argument, thinking of the time when I wanted to try out for the indoor soccer team but didn’t because I assumed I wasn’t good enough, or when I wanted to start a band but then changed my mind because I didn’t really think we’d get anywhere.
To Josh, they said that because he marked high on “happy”, but low on “certainty” and “responsibility”, it meant that he wasn’t really sure if he was happy, and often doubted a lot of things, especially his own feelings. If he were to become more responsible, his certainty would increase and also his self-esteem. I noticed that it struck a cord with him, and knowing him so well, I could see where they were coming from.
Then Mike and Amanda took us to another room and demonstrated this oval shaped machine, called an E-meter, with two metal canisters attached to it, that you held in each hand. There was a needle indicator in the machine that swayed when you held the cans. Mike told me to hold the cans still, and the needle stopped. The he told me to think of someone I knew, and I thought of Josh, and the needle started to lean towards the left. Then Josh tried it and it did the same thing. I thought it was pretty cool.
We were shown to a room where people did different courses. There were only a few people in the room but they said it was busier on weekends and evenings. They offered us to buy an introductory course, consisting of communication drills, for a very low price. It would help us to communicate with other people better, they said, and it had a lot of fun exercises. They also offered us to buy a copy of the volcano books. It was about mental health, they said. And it would explain why the needle swayed when you thought of something.
So Josh and I ended up splitting the cost of the book, 15 dollars between us, on the condition that he read it first, which was fine with me. We also signed up for the Success Through Communication Course which was 50 dollars each, money back guarantee if we were not satisfied. It wasn’t until we were about to leave that I noticed the name L. Ron Hubbard on the cover of the Dianetics book.
“Wasn’t that the guy who stared that weird celebrity cult, the one Tom Cruise is a member of?” I asked. “And doesn’t it cost millions to join?”
“Oh, no”, Amanda said. “We’ve got nothing to do with the Scientology organization. This is called the Dianetics Centre, and although the courses and books here were written by L. Ron Hubbard, these are two entirely different organizations.”
I shrugged my shoulders and didn’t think more of it. Neither did Josh, it seemed.

On our way home Josh and I talked about everything else but the place we’d just visited, anything that vented the thoughts bobbling in the minds of hormone infested teenagers. We decided that he’d spend the night at my house on Friday and we’d go back to the Dianetics place on Saturday, just to see if the course was worth the 50 bucks. If not, we’d just catch a movie instead. I didn’t really care, but Josh seemed more interested.
By Friday, he’d almost finished the entire book. He lay tucked in on the coach in my room, just like when he’d lived with us for a while during the time his mom suffered a breakdown after his dad’s death, and read. Rather than watching movies with me, or just talking about the usual stuff, he was submerged in the book, and occasionally uttered an “aha”, repeating how many great ideas were in there. Such as, whenever people read a word that they don’t understand it makes them tired and yawn, and whenever people give up on reading or studying something, it’s because they don’t fully understand it. He also said it was about how people store traumatic events in a special memory bank and when other stuff happens to you later you’re unconsciously reminded of those events, and they make you feel worse than you otherwise would.
“By doing these Dianetics techniques, you are less affected by negative things that happen to you”, he said. “And you can improve your memory. Might be good for a below average student like me, don’t you think?”
The next day we were in the course room with maybe fifteen others who were doing the same and other courses. First, we read some things in a course book about how being a good communicator will help you in life. Then, people were paired up, sitting face-to-face on a chair, some with their eyes closed and some just staring at each other, trying not to move or think about anything. The idea of the exercise was that when someone else enters your personal space, one tends to withdraw a bit, but sitting and just staring at someone else is meant to extrovert you, just by “confronting” the other person.
We sat for a while with our eyes closed. At first, it was hard not start fidgeting, and the course supervisor would watch us and say “flunk” he we notice us moving around, dozing off or doing anything that suggested we weren’t concentrating. We were just supposed to “be there”. Then, we tried doing the same thing but with our eyes open. Just sitting completely still, staring at each other. After a while, Josh’s face started to change colours and the room changed shape, it was like I entered a new dimension or something. How something simple like that could give such a kick was pretty neat, and Josh thought the same. We liked the course so much that we decided to come for a few hours everyday until we finished it.

We moved on to another exercise called “Bull baiting” in which one of us would talk to the other person, sitting unmoving, and try to get him out of focus by finding his weak points, “buttons”, and provoke a reaction. I could see the useful tool in it, to have someone say anything to your face and not let yourself be affected by it, and never loose your cool.
Josh and I knew each other so well that we went on each other like wrecking balls. It took him almost an hour to quit giggling at my loud and blunt “Josh is a virgin”, meant for everyone in the course room to hear. We spent hours taking turns mocking each other, over and over again until the buttons were “flat”. At the end of the day our guts were sore from laughter.
Mike told us that we would have these “wins”, these positive emotions, and that it was the effect of the courses and what they were teaching us. But it was important that we didn’t talk about it with people who were unfamiliar with these courses, because they might not understand and try to put us down. This was a positive change in our emotions and we should be wary of anyone who seemed to respond negatively to our improvement as human beings.
The first person who did so was my mom. Because I was so eager to get through school and meet up with Josh to go to the Dianetics centre, I arrived back home late without having done my homework. After a period of almost two weeks, she started to ask me unusual questions, and I noticed she’d snooped around in my room. She’d probably seen the Dianetics book I always fell asleep while reading.
“Are you seeing Josh every day now?” she asked.
I said yes.
“Well, so what are you two doing? I thought he was sore at you for not coming to his birthday party.”
On Josh’s eighteenth birthday, instead of coming to his family dinner and birthday party, I had gone on a date. Ashley, a girl I knew Josh had been interested in, relieved me from the shackles of virginity that night. Josh was disappointed and didn’t talk to me for a month. Then he came around, saying he probably would have done the same thing to me. Our friendship was worth a lot, but anything could be sacrificed for the loss of virginity.
“We’re passed that now, we’re good”, I said.
I knew my mom didn’t like him, although she tried to keep face. She thought he had bad influence on me and that his mom was a nutcase. I was just waiting for her to ask if he did drugs but she never did.
“And what’s that Scientology book I found in your room?” she said. “You want to explain that?”
“Yeah, it’s a book with a volcano on the cover. It’s supposed to be good.”
“Well, have you read it? You’re not joining that crazy cult, are you?”
I was just on my way out and all I could think of saying was:
“It’s not a cult, mom.”

In the final stages of the course exercises, the basics of facing each other and staying focused where topped with other things, like reading passages from “Alice in Wonderland” in different emotional expressions, and acknowledging each other clearly. After reviewing all the exercises the course leader passed us and we’d finished the course. We’d learned how to initiate a conversation, steer one in the direction we wanted, keep a conversation alive, and how to not be affected by insults. Josh and I both felt we’d gained some useful communication tools, and we wanted more of the same.
The course leader announced that we were finished and everyone stopped their work to congratulate us. We then spoke loudly about our “wins” and we all applauded, facing a picture of L. Ron Hubbard on the wall.
I approached Mike about some tips about my mom. I told him she probably suspected I was on drugs. What was I to tell her?
“Well, just use the tech you’ve learned in the course”, he said. “You’ve learned the tools of communication, now just apply them to your life, and it should be fine”.
Mike then went on to explain the origin of the course. He said that L. Ron Hubbard had developed the course as a part of the “Auditor’s training program” in the early 50s. The “Auditor” is the person who looks at the swaying needle on the oval shaped machine. It is used for a type of therapy that Hubbard developed which is called “auditing”.
“When you receive auditing, the auditor asks you to recall a certain event and the E-meter reads when you pinpoint that exact incident in your mind,” said Mike. “So the auditor is trained on the communication drills to get you to communicate about things. Auditing means ‘listening’. But then Hubbard’s research showed that anyone could benefit from these courses, so he made them into stand alone courses.”
Most of it shot straight over my head, but since Josh had read the Dianetics book it made more sense to him. He was interested in knowing more about auditing, as was I, and we were invited to go to the Scientology centre with Mike the following day.
On the way home, Josh explained to me about the mechanisms of the mind that he’d read about in Dianetics, and how all the negative things in your mind could be eradicated through auditing.

At the Scientology centre, Josh and I first got to see a short film about the history of Scientology and a bit on the philosophy behind it; a tacky piece which felt like an infomercial, with cheap, pompous background music and a presenter bordering on ridiculousness. After the movie, Mike came to show us around and to talk a bit about the different stages of auditing. There was something called Grades, which was auditing that focused on different problem areas, four grades altogether. But since everyone had their own unique baggage, beginners got a free “session”, as it was called, so that the auditor could see what areas you needed to focus on. That day we both got one so that we would get an idea of it was like. Then we could choose from different introductory package deals, starting at around five hundred dollars for twelve hours, or a one time only offer of fifty hours for one thousand five hundred.
I waited for almost two hours in a long hallway looking curiously around, reading pamphlets and Scientology magazines, impressed by how professional at all seemed. Busy staff members rushed passed me, yet most still took the time to stop and say hello. When Josh finally came out he looked as if he’d just been laid by Jessica Alba twenty times straight. Then he saw me sitting there waiting for him and I asked him what it was all about, but he didn’t say. He sat down next to me.
“This is amazing”, he said. “The coolest thing I’ve ever done.”
“Well, tell me!” I said, equally exited for him as for myself.
“No. You’re not supposed to talk about what goes on in session. Mike told me. And it makes a lot of sense, too. It’s a very personal experience. You’ll see for yourself.”
In a matter of seconds, at the very sight of me, his million dollar Dianetics smirk was switched to that old insecure Josh. I sensed a blow coming on. Something wasn’t right. And it was in moments like these that I whished I didn’t know him so damn well. I knew the feeling from before, being disappointed without knowing why.
“So”, I said. “What is it? I can see there’s something you want to say, so just tell me bluntly. You’re supposed to be able to communicate now, right?”
Then it hit me. He needn’t even say it. The trip. Our trip. He wasn’t doing it. He was going for the auditing instead.
“You’re not gonna go, are you?” I said just to be sure. “Our trip? You’re bailing, right?”
“I’m sorry”, he said. “I really need this right now. I hope you’ll understand. I hope you won’t let it come between us.”
I laughed through my nose in honest disbelief. But it was my fault for believing in him to begin with. I should’ve known we’d end up here. We always did. Fooling myself, thinking we wanted the same things. Thinking we were on the same page. The Asia trip had been my idea, but he went along with it from day one. I guess since I would have to work to pay for it, the investment on my part was bigger. For him, it was just something coming up effortlessly down the road, something easily substituted. And the change I’d seen in him over that past weeks had been so significant, I knew the idea of our trip would only become more and more distant in his mind. It simply didn’t mean anything to him, which I could only interpret as spending time with me didn’t mean enough for him to go through with it.

When the door to the auditing room opened up, I was called in. I left Josh sitting there in a mixture of selfish exhilaration and false guilt. The room had little more than a desk and two chairs, and I was seated in the more comfortable one across from the auditor, a European man in his 40s who smelled of coffee. In my hands I held the tin cans connected to the E-meter, the oval shaped mind reading machine, and the auditor started to ask me questions.
First I was asked to take a deep breath, and then he checked off a list of questions related to Scientology. Was I a journalist? Did I come with any preconceived ideas about Scientology? Had I ever sued the Scientology organization or one of its members? The questions seemed odd, but somehow I didn’t pay much attention to them. I was more interested in knowing what this auditing business was.
Then the session began, and I was first asked if I had any upsets in present time. Like a lightning flash, my thoughts went to Josh.
“I’d like to indicate to you that the meter is reading on that thought”, the auditor said. “Please communicate what you were thinking.”
I told him I thought of my friend Josh.
“What was the upset?” the auditor asked.
I explained the situation. We were seniors, gap year was coming up and we were going to go travel together. But now all of a sudden he just scrapped it. Just like that. Like it didn’t mean anything. It was just like him, too. It felt so strange, because he always made me feel that we were really close friends, had some big thing going on together and then in the last minute he’d pull something like this that’d make me consider our deep seated differences.
“Thank you”, the auditor said. “Is there an earlier similar incident?”
In an almost automatic process, I started to scan my memory bank from present time and backwards, so fast I couldn’t even realize I was doing it. It was like holding the cans connected me to some super computer that downloaded all my memory images and scoured them in hyper speed. Then bam.
“What’s that thought?” the auditor asked.
Bam.
“There it is again. Same thought. Please communicate what’s on your mind at this time.”
We were in sixth grade. He was going on a ski trip with his parents, before his dad died, and I was allowed to come along. There was room for one more so he could bring a friend. He’d told me I could come along for weeks. My parents were arguing a lot at the time, and I looked forward to getting some space. They had already agreed to cover my expenses, so it was all set. But then in the last minute, his cousin Jake was coming instead of me. Apparently, he’d never told his parents he wanted me to come, so they’d picked his cousin and I was just left out.
“Thank you”, the auditor said. “Is there an earlier similar incident?”
Again the scanning sensation kicked it. This time fainter as I was going back further back in the recesses of my mind. It was as if I was facing a dark cloud dead on, fumbling around in the unknown. Then bam.
“There”, the auditor said. “What’s that thought right there”.
I wasn’t sure. I just had a flash image of a wooden house. It was a blurry image at first, and then gradually it grew clearer.
Bam.
“There”, the auditor said. “What’s that thought? Can you describe the images?”
I pictured a wooden house in the country side, and someone with an axe, roaming around in a woodpile. There were plenty of birches in the area, orange leaves. It was fall, and chilly.
The images were sometimes just snapshots without solid any information, on the other hand, sometimes the information came without an image and rather in the form of a feeling. My mind would just continue the scan and a slight buzzing sensation circled my body. It felt like my thoughts were bouncing around and when a new thought came, the auditor would help me unravel it by helping me chose which one to go with, in reference to the initial question. And like an onion, the layers of images and information peeled away.
I realized that the person with the axe was me, a long time ago. I guessed, a hundred years at least. The house was my home and winter was on its way. It was harsh times, bad crop and little food for most of the year. There were other people around, too. A younger sister and a mother. There was another guy also, roughly the same age. We had a stronger connection, I sensed. My brother.
It was Josh.
We were good friends. We worked the farm well together, we made a good team. But factories were springing up in the bigger cities, and that’s where the jobs were. More and more people were leaving the farmlands. I wanted to leave, and so did he.
There was a girl on the next farm down that Josh wanted to marry, and if she would marry him, he would stay. I didn’t want to go alone, so I brunt down her family’s barn, knowing that they’d suspect one of us. I never told him, but he knew it was me. I’d done it so she would hate him and they’d never marry. He’d promised to replant five acres with me for next year’s crop, so that the family would be ok, and then we could leave. But one day he was gone. No note, no nothing, just gone.
As I relived these images, wherever they originated from, surges of emotion swirled around in me, strong feelings of anger, pain, sorrow and guilt. Sometimes the emotions were unfurled along with the mysterious images. I found it enigmatic how fuzzy mental pictures could contain so much hidden information and feelings.
I’d never considered the possibility of past lives too deeply. It was just this idea that was plausible, but never really addressed, as most things are. The whole thing seemed bizarre to me, like an unexplored world opened up, like some new dimension, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know more about it. The experience of it was, in a way, supernatural. I felt as if I got a glimpse of a hidden, mysterious world that was unreachable in our day-to-day state. That there really was something more to it all than what we see. It’s a feeling that lingered on with me for a while after that session, and I could see what it was about it that got people hooked I didn’t realize it then, but I think I might have felt a bit put off by what I might find if I delved deeper.
When the session was over, and I came out again, Josh had already left. That evening, I decided I would stick to planning the trip alone. It was something I felt I needed to do and I wasn’t going to let Josh ruin it for me. I realized that we were far more different than I wanted to believe and whatever rift of interest had started between us wasn’t going to heal up. I enjoyed the time we spent doing the course, but I wasn’t prepared to change my life schedule to the point that it meant failing school. I still had to graduate, I still had to save up, and I still wanted to be friends with Josh. But he’d changed his mind.

A few months later, we met in the park again. Not by appointment, but by chance. It was late summer, and I’d spend most of it working in my dad’s office. In the last few weeks of school I’d got my act together, salvaged my grade point average as best I could and graduated. Josh had dropped out a after we’d finished the course and joined staff at the Scientology centre. He’d avoided me at first, probably thinking I was going to come around. But when he called me a few weeks later, not to tell me he was sorry for changing his mind, but to sell me more Scientology books, his voice felt cold and distant. I knew then that the gap of understanding between us was beyond the width of any ladder, and it seemed only natural that we spent less time together.
I was skating on the ramp when I saw him and Mike walking in the park, handing out pamphlets. I walked up and said hello, and even though it was Josh and I knew him well, he seemed profoundly changed. After just a few months, he acted, talked and even slightly looked like one of them. He didn’t see people anymore, he only saw people who had never received auditing, who didn’t know what he knew – the great secrets of life. Now he was just like Mike and Amanda, walking around, trying to get people in for the smirk sale.
"If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth."
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Evey_Hammond

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Post Thu Apr 10, 2008 7:40 am

Wow, I am short on time, but I plan on reading the rest tomorrow after class.

(Maybe I shouldn't have told you that, I just wanted to let you know I like what I have read so far, but that I don't have time to finish it yet :).
I'll get back to you soon.
-Evey
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Evey_Hammond

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Post Sun Apr 13, 2008 11:53 pm

Hello Holden,
I feel like I just read a whole novel cover to cover. That was very well written, and I must say that it was a very realistic version to what the initiation process is like. It was written in a way that a person not familiar with Scientology could relate.
Josh is an interesting character, he really was searching for "something", anything to save him. The thing that is quite apparent, is that he was not a happier person for this new lifestyle. Not only did he not honor an obligation to a dear friend, but he did not really use the "communication" tools he had gained.
This is a bit of a sad story to me, I mean, to loose a dear friend like that. You want the ones around you, who you love, to be happy in the choices that they make in their lives. It is just a shame that relationships are broken up, because one person doesn't quite understand "why" someone gets so sucked up, that other parts of their lives get unbalanced. Instead of Josh loosing a dear friend, he could have explained it to him a little better and still kept their friendship strong. This is a sad aspect of getting involved with Scientology.
I recently brought my Fiancee into an organization to get him a personality test. I did this not to get him involved, but for him to gain a bit of reality into what I spent my childhood doing. I trust his judgment and value what he has to say. I wanted to see what his take on the whole thing was.
He got his test and asked a bunch of questions to the lady administering the test. I guess he asked too many questions for her to answer and she ended up turning him off of Scientology. As he was asking her questions, I was just taking it all in. The questions he asked were quite innocent and logical questions, like "why are the cds and books so expensive if Scientology owns and opporates it's own publishing house and uses Sea Org member man power (which means no pay really)?" He got me thinking why also. The lady wasn't even able to answer his questions with REAL answers, but with round about info, and then changed the subject.
Well, I am just glad for that experience, because he gave me the strength to research the other side to make an educated choice.

Sorry, got off on a bit of a tangent. I just want to say great job on writing that Holden! You have a very captivating voice and I enjoyed that very much. Do you mind if I show it to a few friends who are not in Scientology? I think it might be an interesting read for them.
Thanks again,
-Evey :D
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Holden Caulfield

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Post Mon Apr 14, 2008 12:44 am

Hi Evey,

thanks for your comment. Given that I wrote this piece under heavy time pressure and I never got a change to do an in-class workshop, it turned out ok.
But the main idea was that it would comment on the initiation process and that the reader would know as little about Scientology as the characters.
It may be somewhat of a sad piece, but it's far nicer in its tone than I would like it to be. Since both characters were new to Scientology, there was really no room for any strong opinions on the matter. I think the underlying critique is still evident for most, the one who is drawn into Scientology is the one with the most problems, thinking that Scientology is the answer, while it instead creates new problems.
Who knows, maybe their friendship wouldn't have lasted anyway, but my intent with the auditing scene was to show how auditing can really get you to see ghosts on the walls, it can cause more problems and fixed ideas than anything else.

You are welcome to show it to whoever you want. :)

/ Holden
"If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth."
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Jenna

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Post Tue Apr 22, 2008 6:28 pm

Wow. I really enjoyed reading that.
I saw it posted about a week ago and it looked long, so I figured I would come back to it. So I did and I couldn’t stop reading.
I really liked the perspective. You are a very good writer and an intriguing person. I am interested to hear more.
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Holden Caulfield

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Post Thu Apr 24, 2008 1:09 pm

Thanks, Jenna!
"If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth."

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