Look at Wikipedia for the year you were born and the day of the writing exercise. Find out the event that happened on that day and write a short story around that date.
I looked at Wikipedia on January 28, 1983 (year I was born), but there were no events happening on the date. I looked at the dam day, but in 1984, and still nothing. So I jumped to 1985, and finally there was a big event that I picked. The event that took place on January 28, 1985 was when the charity single record of “We Are the World” was recorded by USA for Africa. They recorded this song to help raise funds for the Ethiopian Famine Relief Funds. I am not using my YA book characters for this exercise. I am creating new characters.
Stacy walked down the sidewalk, her short black bobbed hair bouncing with each step. She was headed to work at the local music recording studio in busy downtown Los Angeles. It was just another day for Stacy; take phone calls, return phone calls, transfer phone calls, take messages, write and type up notes, make the coffee, and do whatever else she had on her desk to finish.
Stacy loved her job, but she wished she could be a part of the action more. She wanted to listen to the music that was being recorded. She couldn’t hear from where her desk sat towards the front of the building, but she pretended she could. Stacy would slightly dance at her desk whenever she knew someone was recording.
Stacy pulled open the front door to the studio building and stepped into the cool lobby. She brushed her hair back from her soft grey eyes as she looked around to see who was in the building already. She spotted her boss hurrying past her desk with folders in his hand and smiled.
“Good morning, Mr. Harold,” Stacy said as she walked across the tiled floor to her desk. She worked as the head secretary for the past 5 years.
“Stacy, good morning. How is my favorite secretary doing this beautiful sunny morning?” Mr. Harold said with a wave. The tall, balding man, who everyone considered a teddy bear, stopped beside her desk.
Stacy joined her boss at her desk. “Doing great. I went on my third date with Charlie last night.”
“Thirddesk? Oh, it’s getting serious. That is wonderful news. I’ll have to tell Mrs. Harold.” He grinned and set the file down so he could fix his deep green tie. “We know how invested my wife is in your love life.”
Stacy laughed and took off her black jacket and walked around her desk to her chair. She hung the desk as she thought fondly of Mrs. Harold, a sweet older woman with graying hair who treated Stacy like Stacy was her own daughter. “Your wife is a crack up, Mr. Harold. I just love her to death. Is the BBQ still happening next week at your place?”
“You better believe it. So far, we have a little over half of the staff coming.” Mr. Harold leaned against Stacy’s desks while she sat in her chair. “Could you send out a reminder to everyone asking them to RSVP by the end of the day, Stacy? Type up a letter and give it to everyone. Then type up a sign-up sheet and tell everyone to sign it, even those who already said they would go. That way, I will have a better head count.”
Stacy unlocked her desk, opened the bottom drawer, and placed her purse inside. “I’ll get that done first, then.” She smiled up at Mr. Harold and closed the drawer.
“You are amazing, Stacy. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“Be completely unorganized and running around like a chicken with its head cut off,” Stacy said as she grabbed a pen and pad of paper. She would write out the letter first, get it okayed with Mr. Harold, and then type it up on her computer.
Mr. Harold laughed and waved as he walked away to start his day. Stacy laughed as she wrote up what she wanted to say, took it to Mr. Harold, who told her it sounded great, and then sat back in front of her desk. Her fingers flew across the keyboard even though she had just gotten the computer three weeks ago and was still struggling to get used to the new computer.
“Okay, that is finished,” she said to herself after she taped a sign-up sheet on her desk. She printed out copies of the note Mr. Harold wanted everyone to get and went around to offices, placing the note on everyone’s desks. She rolled herself back to her desk when she finished her task and returned phone calls.
Stacy worked through the busy morning. She welcomed bands and directed them to where they would record their music. She wrote notes and took messages from phone calls. Stacy smiled when she heard the door open for the fifteenth time that day and looked up at the group came in, ready to record.
“Hello, I’m Stacy. Welcome to A & M Recording Studios. How may I help you?”
“Hi Stacy, we are USA for Africa and we are here to record our song We Are the World.”
“Oh yes! We are so happy you all made it. You will meet Mr. Quincy Jones and Mr. Michael Omartian in recording number four.” Stacy stood up and walked around her desk. She pointed down the hallway to her left and said, “Just follow this hallway to the third door on your right. I hope you have a great recording session.”
The group thanks Stacy and walked down the hallway to the door she had pointed out to them. They disappeared inside and she could faintly hear them talking to the producers who were waiting for them inside. Mr. Harold walked past, looking bewildered over something.
“Mr. Harold, is there something wrong?” Stacy asked before she sat back down behind her desk.
“Someone did not restock the room that they were recording in with waters,” Mr. Harold said. “And I can’t find anyone to help me out.”
“I’ll help you,” Stacy said, already headed to the closet where they keep the bottled waters.
Mr. Harold thanked her and the two grabbed several cold waters from the fridge they stored in the other room. The two hurried to the recording room four and, after a quick knock, they walked inside. The group was already in the booth, ready to record their song. Stacy said her hellos to Mr. Jones and Mr. Omartian, while she stoked the little refrigerator in the far corner of the room.
“Okay, we are ready in here. Are you all ready to start in there?” Mr. Jones said into a microphone linked to the booth.
“Great, then let’s record this song and get it out into the world,” Mr. Jones said as he pushed a few levers.
Music filled the room, and Stacy was about to leave when the group sang. She stopped with her hand on the door handle when the words hit. She slowly turned around and listened, tears in her eyes. Stacy sat down on the couch in the room, forgetting the world around her, forgetting her work, and just listened. When the song ended, Stacy stood up, clapping, and wiped away tears from her eyes.
Mr. Omartian turned in his chair and looked at her with a grin on his face. He looked back at the group and pointed over at Stacy. “You guys heard it here first. It’s perfect!”
Stacy blushed while the group clapped and patted each other on the back. She excused herself and rushed out of the room, back to her desk. After a few hours of work, Stacy looked up to see the group USA for Africa walk out of the recording room.
They stopped by her desk, and she beamed at them. “You all did such a wonderful job in there.”
“Thanks, Stacy. And this is for you.”
One member handed her a signed copy of their poster. She gratefully accepted it and wished them a great day. She looked at the poster and sighed with a huge smile on her face. Stacy carefully packed ti away and got back to work, but the smile never left her face for the rest of the day.