Book Project Option

Create a conversation between a character and a reporter in an interview or between a character and a psychiatrist.

Psychiatrist: Hi Ponyboy. Sit down. How has your week been?

Ponyboy: Well, I went to school, and I did my homework with only a little bit of arguing with Darry, and I ate chocolate cake for breakfast only three days this week because Soda used all the chocolate for his milk. I read Gone with the Wind for the fourth time, and I had a little run-in with the Socs, but nothing big. My teacher passed me with a C, so I still can have a decent chance at college. Darry did only a little bit of yelling about this. I slept in the bed with Soda instead of the empty lot this week, and I didn't have that one dream. And, well, I guess that’s about it.

Psychiatrist: What about smoking?

Ponyboy: Four packs a day, about.

Psychiatrist: Do you know what smoking does to you, Ponyboy?

Ponyboy: Well of course I do, it gets you all messed up on the inside. But I’m already pretty messed up all around, and the only thing it ever does is make everything feel good again, so I think its pretty okay. Darry doesn't like it. Soda doesn't mind. Everybody does it though. It’s kind of like eating or walking, you just do it without a second thought. That’s how it is around us greasers. We've all been smoking since we were young.

Psychiatrist: I recall that you said you were different from them, that you had a chance.

Ponyboy: Well of course I do, I do well in school.

Psychiatrist: There’s more to getting along in life than just doing well in school, Ponyboy.

Ponyboy: I know that, but here’s how I see it: one day I’ll be like Darry, all hard working and stiff and caring a heck of a lot more than necessary about every little thing. I’m not saying that’s a bad thing, it just doesn't seem very desirable. So right now while I don’t have any real responsibilities, I want to enjoy my freedom and do what I want. Maybe a couple smokes and some chocolate cake is just the way I say that I still have that freedom.

Psychiatrist: Okay, we’ll talk about that later…tell me about your relationship with Darry.

Ponyboy: Well, ever since I figured out that he really does love me a lot, a kind of gave him a break about yelling at me, because I know he’s just doing it out of care. And he yells a lot less now. I guess maybe he figured out he should be a little less hard on me.  And he still whips up a chocolate cake whenever we've eaten it all, so I can’t be too picky.

Psychiatrist: And what about Soda?

Ponyboy: Oh me and Soda are just swell. I stop by the gas station on the way home from school now, because Darry doesn't ever want me walking alone. I buy a coke and a candy bar and play around with Soda and the girls he picks up until his shift is over, and then we drive home. Darry always has a nice meal cooking when we get there. Me and Soda talk about everything with each other, and I listen to his problems now too, because I know that he has them just like everyone else. And every night before we doze off we open the window and look at the stars for a while, because star gazing is the best way to stay gold. I want to stay gold for Johnnycake.

Psychiatrist: You sound like you’re very happy now, Ponyboy.

Ponyboy: Well I am. I figured there’s no use staying sad about the guys who died because that’s not what they would want. They’d want me to eat chocolate cake and fool around and smoke and act tough and tuff just like we used to. So that’s just what I’ll do.

Psychiatrist: I’m glad you have an optimistic look on life again. I’m afraid your session is over, I’ll see you next week, Ponyboy.

Ponyboy: Okay.

Psychiatrist: Oh, one more thing.

Ponyboy: Yes?

Psychiatrist: Stay gold, Ponyboy. Stay gold.