The Damnation of Tara (née Scott) Dahle

In which our rogue Heroine recounts Wickedness

I’d like to tell a tale of wickedness now.  This will contrast nicely with my comments yesterday on prayer.  I was always a solid A- student: pretty good, but just lazy enough to fail a little.  With this said, I always expected at least my A-.   It is a sad, sad story when an admittedly partial failure will get furious when not receiving her expected due, but this is the case.  I was taking an American Humanities at BYU and we had a regular assignment of a single-spaced one page paper due every Monday on a text or piece of artwork.  I had been receiving low B’s so far that semester on these assignments.  Let us just say that the anger was building into a mushroom cloud by about the half-way point when on one fatal day I received a solid C.  “This is ridiculous!” I thought loudly, and with a hard and mean tone in my head.  I knew it was time to do something different.  Disliking the beg-for-my-grade approach, I opted out of stalking down my professor in his office.  Besides, I liked him and didn’t want to unnecessarily antagonize him.  Which we all know by now, is something I could really do with style. 

Our assignment for the next week was on a book entitled, The Damnation of Theron Ware.  I found the book depressing and had no interest whatsoever at that point in agreeing with my professor’s assessment of it.  The issue question: “Was Theron Ware damned?  Support you conclusion either way…”  I remember feeling angry as I sat down in front of the computer.  Suddenly, I felt a terrible need to swear my way through the paper.  What better time to do it than now, I reasoned.  The excuse is in the title.  I began.  From the beginning, Theron Ware was damned.  It felt strong to start out that way, and not because of the swear-word.  Here begins one of my most important moments in learning how to write. Anyway, I continued to use the word d— in every form possible and as many times as I could throughout the course of the paper.  The solid A I received the next week let me know I was onto something good in my writing approach.  I finally understood what a thesis really was.  So much for being right. 

So sorry about how I seem to need to recount wickedness periodically.  None for next time though.  Instead, stay tuned for some Alaskana.  I will recount the touching though somewhat delirious saga of my move to Anchorage and some of its painful and wonderful aftereffects.