Write It Out 2

First, last week's assignment...

"You're dating John?!" Sara (left) exclaimed. "No way! He and I were engaged
once!"

"Really?" Clarisse (right) forced a smile. She had heard about Sara and could see
why John dumped her. She was such a ditz.

Elaine (center) was highly amused. This was SO going on the front page of the
college tabloid! Being editor was so much fun.

And next week's...

There are actually two. One for those who just want a quick little exercise and one for those who actually wish to develop a story.


Quick little exercise:
Choose an inanimate object in your house (or better yet, have one of your children or your spouse choose one). Ponder the object for a few minutes, then write a paragraph describing how you reflect this object.


Building a story:

Choosing a setting:
Some tend to look at the setting (where and when) as the backdrop of a story, just as they would see the surrounding scenery as a backdrop to a portrait. However, I believe the setting makes the story what it is. It is the foundation. Take for example, Louisa May Alcott's Little Women. Change the setting from Civil War era United States to Modern France and you not only change the backdrop, but you change the whole story. The setting, then, is even more important than the characters, for it is the setting that makes the characters who they are.

Choose a setting for your story. Perhaps you already have one in mind or maybe your clueless. If you need a little help, think about a place your familiar with, like where you grew up or where you vacationed. Or how about a place you're intrigued with and would love to learn more about? Study the place you choose. Read up on it. Recall memories. Look at photos. Study maps. Learn the culture. Read up on the history. Get a good all around feel of where your story will be taking place.

Once you are well aquainted with the where, decide on the when. Does the history intrigue you enough to present your story in the past? Perhaps modern times is more suiting. What do you imagine this place to be like in the future?

Whatever setting you choose, learn it well. There will be readers out there who may live there or know the history of the setting. If you are not well learned on the culture of your setting, it will make for a weak story.

Next week, share with us where your story will take place, and why you chose that place. Begin studying and have fun.



Disclaimer: I am, by no means, an expert writer, nor do I claim to be. I have taken a few creative writing classes, one lasting a week and another four months several years ago. I had a few writings published in my single years, but these hardly count as they were instructional writing at a grade school reading level. I am simply inviting you to join me in my learning and stretching. And I just find it plain fun.

Write It Out Wednesday

Thought I'd better get this up for those who have already completed this week's assignment. I'll be back with my assignment and next week's assignment late tonight.

Last week's assignment was to write out the dialouge between these girls and to include their thoughts.

Chapter Two - An Alphabet Family is Born

Chapter Two

Joy, Sharon, and I sat at the head of the double sized dorm room bed and Aaron at the foot, because, of course, Sharon was bedridden, and we couldn’t exactly sit around a table. As Aaron flipped through his pictures, I became more and more impressed. This guy is really something, I thought. He was actually working for agencies like the U.S Forrest Service, FEMA, and NASA. And getting paid by the government. But the greatest thing I noticed… his humility. He didn’t boast about his position training the U.S. Forrest Service men how to conduct search and rescue. He didn’t get all cocky about his big, fat paycheck from Uncle Sam. He talked about it all as if it were your typical young bachelor job.

The entire evening, I found myself gazing at Aaron’s eyelashes. They were long, dark, and curly like I had never seen on a man before. Not girlish, in anyway. They still very much embodied manliness. But they were gorgeous. My! Were they gorgeous! I chided myself several times. Girl, you’ve got to stop staring at this guy’s eyelashes. He’s going to think you’re a forward flirt or something.

When Aaron left that night, I knew I wanted to see him more. Talk with him more. Know him more. There was something inside me, deep inside me, that was drawn to him like a magnet. It was something deeper than I had ever felt. I had to get to know him!

I certainly had plenty of opportunity to do just that during that summer. Aaron’s roommate, Spencer, had been present at the accident, and had sort of taken on the responsibility of looking in on Sharon and Joy from time to time to make sure they had what they needed. However, he was scheduled to be out on deployment a lot that summer. So Aaron kind of took over. Another single guy on campus, an instructor named Doug, worked in the emergency room in Tyler, Texas where Sharon was taken, and actually attended to her, if I remember correctly. He made it his job to check up on any of Sharon’s medical needs between weekly visits from her therapy nurse and her trips to the doctor’s offices. Between the three of them, we were well taken care.

Of course, three girls shut up in a dorm room need more than just light bulbs and small kitchen appliances. They need DVDs, company, and outings on the town (as Sharon’s strength improved). And apparently, Aaron thought we needed a computer, internet, and networking to the guy’s dorm in order to play computer games with them. Add to all this the fact that during the summer months, the campus was pretty much empty. Only the essential staff were there. The staff guys were almost “rule-free”. The staff girls still had a curfew and other rules instated, but since we were not living in the staff grils’ house and were not on staff, we were left “rule-free” too. All this provided more than opportunity to see Aaron, talk to him, and get to know him more.

Write It Out Wednesday - Next Week's Assignment

Well, Jendi reminded me that I said nothing about next week's assignment. And C. Lewis directed her readers to my blog to get next week's assignment, so it might be smart to actually post next week's assignment. I am so absent minded today.

Ok, next week's assignment. Look at this picture. Notice facial expression and body language. Look at the surroundings. Based on your observations of who these girls are, write a dialogue of their conversation and include what they're thinking.

Write It Out Wednesday

Last week's assignment was to describe your favorite place using your five senses. It should be five paragraphs long. Each paragraph dedicated to one sense, with the sense of sight last.

Sounds like a wonderful assignment. Did anyone do it? I didn't. Ha Ha Ha!! I'm going to go ahead and put up Mr. Linky, in case anyone did, and wants to link to it, but I have nothing to post. I know that's horrible. What "meme leader" would do that?? Well, me. The one who has had almost 0 meme followers (except last week). So, is it allowed?

If I get a chance tonight, I am going to work on the second chapter of the Alphabet Family, and I'll post that instead.

Love to you all! I'm going to take a nap while I can!!

Write It Out Wednesday

I am super excited about last week's challenge. I chose "B" - mother of three, future, on top a skyscraper. And yes, I did choose my letter before I let EXCEL mix it all up, so I didn't know what I would get. To be honest, I really didn't like my combination. I found it rather hard to think outside the past/present time period box. I can draw on history. I can draw on current events. But I cannot draw on future events. It all had to come out of my head.

Let me preface my story be saying, I'm not real big on the whole global warming issue. After all, it's March and it's still freezing over here!!! But, because I'm not into futuristic robots and spaceships, I chose to change the weather.

Some Sort of Clever Title

Erlise looked out over the city. She could see a long way from her favorite perch on top her high rise apartment building. All around her, high concrete buildings rose from the ground. Some, like her apartment building, were topped with a special glass dome with beautiful lawns, parks, or playgrounds snuggly protected underneath.

Things had sure changed since she was a girl. She looked down to the street below. She used to walk with her mother along that very street to the little ice cream shop on the corner. The ice cream shop that no longer existed. She sighed as her daughter’s voice brought her back to the present. “What is it, Shalyn?”

“Mommy! Danny won’t slide down. He just sits there, and doesn’t let anyone else have a turn.” Erlise drew her eyes away from the scene outside the dome and turned toward the playground. Sure enough. There was 3 year old Danny at the top of the slide and a whole line of children standing on the ladder. He must have gotten too scared to slide again.

“Come on, Danny,” Erlise assured her son as she walked toward the slide. “I’ll stand at the bottom and catch you.” But Danny would not budge. He shook his head vigorously.

“Make him go, Mommy!” shouted Shalyn, and without waiting for a response, shoved Danny down the slide.

Danny screamed all the way down to his mother’s arms. She scooped him up quickly to avoid a doggy pile as all the other children began to slide down in a fury.

“Are you ok, Danny?” Erlise asked.

“Yes, Mommy.” Danny’s scared expression turned into a full grin. “That was fun! I want to do it again.”

Jake, Erlise’s oldest son, reached the bottom of the slide just in time to hear Danny’s request. “No, Mom! Don’t let him. He always gets stuck up there. He’s such a baby.”

Danny scowled. “No, I’m not!”

“Well, technically, you are,” Shalyn explained, trying to help. “Jake is 8. I am 5. And
you’re just 3. So you see, you are a baby.”

Danny didn’t appreciate his sister’s knowledgeable explanation at all. “I am not a baby!!” He turned to his mother for help. “Tell them, Mommy! Tell them I’m not a
baby.”

Erlise smiled, ignoring the situation on hand. “Come on, kids. Let’s go sit on the bench at the edge of the dome and see what’s out in the big world today.”

Jake frowned. “Nothing more than yesterday, of course. Nothing ever changes out there, Mom.”

“Will you tell us about it all again, Mommy?” Shalyn put her hands together, looked up at her mother and pleaded, “Please!!!”

“Story. Story. Story.” Danny chanted as he danced in circles around his mother.

“Ok,” Erlise agreed. “Everyone to the bench!” The kids did not need any more of an invitation. They were off like lightening to obey their mother’s order.

“Look down there at the street,” Erlise began. “Tell me what you see.”

“Nothing,” Jake mumbled.

“The street.” Leave it to Danny to state the obvious.

“You haven’t told us what to see yet, Mommy.” And leave it to Shalyn to state the deep and profound.

“You see how the street has lots of cracks and bumps? Those have been caused by the hot sun over the years. When I was a girl, the streets were smooth and packed with cars. Horns honked. Drivers shouted. Everyone was in a hurry to get home after work. There were so many cars, that it was actually faster to walk and take the subway. So the sidewalk was packed with people too, all walking to the subway station.”

“That’s the tunnels now. Right, Mommy” Shalyn interrupted.

“Yes. The subway used to go through the tunnels taking people to where they needed to go. We still use them to get to places, but we walk or ride the scooters. There are too many people down there now to use the subway trains.”

“That’s why they took them apart and made them into little stores to buy food and stuff while we walk through the tunnels.” Shalyn interrupted again.

“Yes, Little Smarty Pants. They did.” Erlise smiled.

Danny looked earnestly at his mother. “Why can’t we go outside, Mommy?”

He asked this question everyday, and everyday Erlise tried to answer in a way he could understand. She cupped Danny’s chin in her hand and smiled broadly. “When I was 10, just a little older than Jake, my daddy came home from work and said that things were going to change. He took my mommy’s hand and said, ‘Sweetheart, it’s just not going to get any cooler. It’s just going to get hotter and hotter.’ My daddy was a weatherman and he had been worrying for several months that winter just wasn’t coming. It just wasn’t getting cold like it normally did.

“My daddy had lots of meetings with the mayor of the city and a lot of other important men. They finally decided to knock down all the short buildings in the city and build more big buildings like ours. They sealed up all the entrances to the subway station and opened up new ones in each of the tall buildings. They put these special glass domes on top of a lot of the buildings, so we can still grow grass, trees, and gardens.

“And just like my daddy said, it kept getting hotter and hotter. By the time I was 13, the sun had killed all the grass, flowers, and trees outside. It was so hot, we couldn’t go outside during the day or we would get very burned. We could only go out at
night.

“That’s why we can’t go outside now, Danny. The sun is too hot. You would get burned. This glass dome,” Erlise said, tapping it with her finger, “lets in the light, but not the harmful sun rays that would burn us. Now, we can grow green grass, yummy fruits and veggies, and pretty flowers inside our domes. And we go can go from building to building by walking through the underground tunnels. We can still live without having to go outside where it’s so hot.”

Jake looked thoughfully out the dome. He studied the now deteriorated scene below him. “Mom?”

“Yes, Jake?”

“Will it ever get cold again?”

“I don’t know, Son. I don’t know.”

Next week's assignment (once again, inspired by Creative Writing Corner's e-book) is to pick one of your favorite places... a vacation spot, a room in your house, or wherever else you like to be. Describe this place in five paragraphs using all five sense. The first paragraph should describe your spot with only your sense of smell. The second with your sense of sound. And so on, saving the sense of sight for last. This will help train your mind to begin thinking through your other senses, rather than always depending on your sight.

Want to share your story with us? Sign Mr Linky and leave the link to your story post.

Want to name my story? Leave a comment. (I'm not very good at titles, apparently.)

Write It Out Wednesday

Writing Exercise of the Week: (taken from The Best Of CWC e-book)

Match Characters with Settings
Here's how it works. This can be done with multiple people (more fun) or just yourself (still fun). First, generate a list of random character types. This could include "amnesiac kleptomaniac", "professional lawn ornament salesman", or "international spy". Write the list in a column on the left side of a piece of paper and number each one. Now in the right, make a similar column of random settings. Examples are
"playground", "mayo health clinic", and "in mid-air". Give each of these a letter. Now write the numbers and letters on scraps of paper and randomly pull one letter and one number out of a hat. You must now write a piece about why a professional lawn ornament salesman is now in mid-air. Don't just explain what he's doing there, though; make it into a story, an anecdote that reveals more about the character. Expand and embellish; it's your story, so have fun with it.

I did things a little differently and used the ever handy Microsoft Excel program to do the mixin' it up for me. I also added a time to the list of choices, so you have a character, a time, and a place.

Today, I'm not going to do any writing. Instead I am preparing for next week. I will choose my set of facts and give myself the rest of the week to think and write. If you want to do this exercise with me, then right now, BEFORE YOU KEEP READING, choose A, B, C or D. I know, sounds weird. But really. Choose one. That'll tell you what your set wil be. Got it? Good.

If you chose A, here is your character and setting.
Air Force Pilot
1800's
Africa

If you chose B...
Mother of three
Future
On top a skyscraper

If you chose C...
School Teacher
Medivial Times
On a ship

If you chose D...
Undercover Agent
Modern Times
Paris

And there ya have it. Let yourself think about it for a while and have fun coming up with a great story. Post it on your blog, then come back here next Wednesday to sign Mr. Linky and let us read your story.

Have FUN!!!

Write It Out Wednesday

Ok, so this is not my normal story genre. I don't really even like to watch these kind of movies. But it was in my head. I have a weird head.

Phantom Child
(Inspired by my children’s toys that turn on and sing all by themselves. Do you have those in your house? Spooky, huh?)

I am Janie. I’m two years old. I live with Mommy, Daddy, Sarah, and Daniel. But they don’t see me. I try to talk to them, but they don’t hear me. I touch them, but they don’t feel me.

They’re not my real family. I was born 20 years ago. I think there was something wrong with me, because the doctor shook his head, and my mommy and daddy cried. I never learned to sit up or crawl or walk. Mommy would carry me to the room she
needed to be in and lay me on a blanket. She used to sing to me and tell me I was special. I would cuddle with Daddy on the couch in the evenings. One day, I felt pretty sick and Mommy carried me to the couch. I stayed there for a week still feeling sick. I must have been real sick, because Mommy and Daddy cried a lot.

I watched them get all dressed up in black one morning. Daddy kept holding Mommy and they cried together. They talked about me being dead and about going to bury me. I didn’t understand them. I called for them, but they didn’t hear me. As they walked out the front door, Mommy whispered, “Goodbye, Janie.”

I jumped off the couch and ran to the door and tried to call them back. But they didn’t hear me. That’s when I realized I didn’t feel sick anymore. I could walk and run. At first I was happy, and I ran all over the house. But then I remembered that Mommy had said “goodbye” and I wondered where they went.

The next day, some strange men came and packed up all our stuff. I watched as they carried my toys to a big truck. I was scared. I didn’t know why they were taking our stuff and I didn’t know where my mommy and daddy were. The last thing they carried out was our couch. I cried. I loved that couch. It was big and soft and that’s where I sat with my daddy.

Since that day, lots of different families have come to live in my house with me. I have always just sat in the corner and watched them. I remember one family that yelled at each other all the time. They scared me. I hid in the closet a lot. Another family had three dogs. They barked at me. But I like this new family. They remind me of my mommy and daddy. But what I like most is their couch. It looks a lot like the couch that Daddy would snuggle me on.

I like their children too. Sarah is my age. Daniel is one. They are a lot of fun. I play with them a lot, but they don’t know it. I sit next to them and watch Curious George with them, but they don’t see me.

They have very fun toys. Some of them have buttons. When you push them, the toy sings or makes noise. I didn’t have toys like that when our stuff was still here. I really like the little piano they have. Today,I went into the closet where it is kept and started to play it while the family was napping. I think “mommy” was annoyed, because she opened the closet door,turned it off, and said, “STUPID toys!!!”

My favorite though is a stuffed dog that has buttons on it’s paws, tummy, nose, and ears. It sings lots of different songs and has lots of different noises. My favorite is the ABC song. One night, I went into Sarah and Daniel’s room when they were asleep and pushed the dog’s button. I wanted to sing the ABC song. It woke up Daniel and he sang with me and clapped his hands. Daniel and I played for about half an hour
before “mommy” came in, grabbed it, and took it to the living room. She growled at the dog and told it to shut up. Daniel was sad that he couldn’t keep playing, and he cried. “Mommy” had to come back in and rock him for a while so he would get sleepy again.

I don’t try to make “mommy” frustrated. But the toys are so fun. And since I never sleep like the family does, I get bored at night and during naptime. Speaking of which, I’m kinda bored now. I think I’ll go play with the fire engine. It has sirens.

Have you done any writing lately?

Write-it-Out Wednesday

Inspiration for today: "Draw on your own experiences."
______________________________

The wail started softly, unnoticed by Kristin. Yet, within a short 15 seconds, the velocity built to an ear piercing screech, much like a fire engine’s siren. Kristin pulled her pillow over her head and moaned. Not again! The baby was just up and nursed an hour and a half ago. She could feel the heat of anger building up inside her chest. Why did she have to sacrifice her sleep? Why did she have to nurse the baby, walk the baby, soothe the baby? Why? Why? Why? Did the simple word “mother” automatically mean that she would be doomed to sacrificing her sleep, her time, her emotions, her life??

She pulled her head out from under her false sound barrier and looked at her snoring husband. It wasn’t fair! John could sleep through anything. ANYTHING!! For a second, she entertained the thought of waking him and pleading that he sooth the baby back to sleep. But she sighed and shook her head. No. That wouldn’t work and she knew it. It wasn’t that he wouldn’t be willing. He had said many times that he wouldn’t mind getting up with the baby. But she knew he would go into the nursery, pick up the screeching baby and that screech would turn into horrific angry baby cries, because Mommy hadn’t been the one to pick him up. For 30 minutes or more, the angry cries would continue. Kristin would toss in bed, throw the pillow over her head, cry, and moan, until finally John would come into the room and say, “I’m sorry, Honey. He just won’t stop. Would nursing him help?”

Sighing again, she angrily threw her legs over the side of the bed. “I need sleep!!” she whispered to herself. She hesitated at the nursery door and took a deep breath. Slowly, she let it out, hoping it would expel the anger along with it. She walked to the crib and looked down at her son. He was so little. So helpless. SO NOISY! “I must look like that to God when He looks down from heaven on me,” she thought.

As she scooped her baby up into her arms, his screeching cries turned into mere whimpering sobs. He felt his mother. He was safe. And he was loved. “Father,” Kristin prayed. “I am little and I am helpless. My heart is crying loudly for you. Hold me close and quiet my soul.”
_______________________________

Now, it's your turn! Just sign your Johnny Hancock to Mr. Linky down below and leave the link to your very own Write-it-Out Wednesday blog post.

Write-It-Out Wednesday

Descriptive Writing

She stood at the top of the hill overlooking the prairie, letting the warmth of the evening sun thaw her chilled heart. The wind dispersed her troubled thoughts as it gently wisped through her hair. She watched as the rustling grass danced in perfect unity. For a moment, she wondered why relationships couldn't be more like that. Perfect unity. But as she inhaled deeply to let out a sigh, the frangrance of the prairie overtook her. Ah! It was good to be home!


Is wisped a word? Hmmmm...

I am getting my writing "assignments"/ideas from Creative Writing Corner.


Oh, yes... I still haven't uploaded the bathroom pictures yet. Today was a lll-ooo-nnn-ggg day! I left the house at 7:45, came home at 4 to give the kids a short nap (which they didn't take), then left again at 5:45 to return home at 6:45. Fed the kids and put them to bed.