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Showing posts with label creative writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label creative writing. Show all posts
Thursday, February 25, 2016
Friday, February 17, 2012
Prompt-and-Share Writing Prompt
Prompt-and-Share
Two challenges in one today. First on our agenda is to focus on setting. Bring those sense to life! The picture below is where your scene plays out.
The second challenge is to be very distinct in the voice you us to describe the setting.
Spend a moment looking at the picture below, then write write write! 250 word count limit.
(picture taken from :http://paperdump.blogspot.com/2011/04/blog-post.html?showComment=1329318439283#c9074766231858070304 )
My Attempt:
Caroline Walker’s heels clickity-clacked on the weathered boards making an echoing sound not unlike a pair of polluted peg-legged sailors rushing down the dock to lay wood at the nearest whorehouse. She huffed and puffed and cursed under her breath as she wondered what in the name of all that was unholy possessed a gentleman like Hugh Montgomery to request she meet him in such an unrefined setting.
Weeds licked at her Manolo Blahniks like tiny green tendrils reaching up through the boards to grasp at her feet. An occasional breeze attempted to mess with her perfectly coifed and heavily sprayed upswept hairdo. She covered her nose and mouth with a thickly scented handkerchief so that the breeze which sometimes allowed for the fresh scent of green grass and meadow flowers to penetrate the cloud of expensive perfume that surrounded her being like its own ozone layer, would be fended off appropriately.
She spotted Hugh at the end of the dock and stormed up to him. One deep breath to contain her anger and then she let loose.
My Crazy Aunt Mimi used to say,” she made the sign of the cross and darted her eyes heavenward. “That you should never piss in the shower if you’ve already washed your feet. Now she may have been loopier than a slinky on a rollercoaster ride but she had her points. So why, pray tell, have you dragged me out to such an,” she swatted at a cloud of gnats that formed around her face, “uncivilized, backwoods, country hellhole when we were perfectly content at the fundraisers ball?”
Two challenges in one today. First on our agenda is to focus on setting. Bring those sense to life! The picture below is where your scene plays out.
The second challenge is to be very distinct in the voice you us to describe the setting.
Spend a moment looking at the picture below, then write write write! 250 word count limit.
(picture taken from :http://paperdump.blogspot.com/2011/04/blog-post.html?showComment=1329318439283#c9074766231858070304 )
My Attempt:
Caroline Walker’s heels clickity-clacked on the weathered boards making an echoing sound not unlike a pair of polluted peg-legged sailors rushing down the dock to lay wood at the nearest whorehouse. She huffed and puffed and cursed under her breath as she wondered what in the name of all that was unholy possessed a gentleman like Hugh Montgomery to request she meet him in such an unrefined setting.
Weeds licked at her Manolo Blahniks like tiny green tendrils reaching up through the boards to grasp at her feet. An occasional breeze attempted to mess with her perfectly coifed and heavily sprayed upswept hairdo. She covered her nose and mouth with a thickly scented handkerchief so that the breeze which sometimes allowed for the fresh scent of green grass and meadow flowers to penetrate the cloud of expensive perfume that surrounded her being like its own ozone layer, would be fended off appropriately.
She spotted Hugh at the end of the dock and stormed up to him. One deep breath to contain her anger and then she let loose.
My Crazy Aunt Mimi used to say,” she made the sign of the cross and darted her eyes heavenward. “That you should never piss in the shower if you’ve already washed your feet. Now she may have been loopier than a slinky on a rollercoaster ride but she had her points. So why, pray tell, have you dragged me out to such an,” she swatted at a cloud of gnats that formed around her face, “uncivilized, backwoods, country hellhole when we were perfectly content at the fundraisers ball?”
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Mind muscle memory
“Practice makes perfect?” Maybe. But idleness does cause atrophy. Back when I was writing everyday, stories came naturally to me. Everything I saw and did related somehow to writing. Movies, books, a walk on the beach, the texture of food, the smell of my dog, and how certain events made me feel.
It’s been a couple of months since I’ve written anything fictitious, and now when I try, my brain freezes up – it doesn’t flow like it used to. Ideas don’t just pop into my head, and a story doesn’t simply appear by staring at a blank screen.
Upon reflection, I believe the creative writing muscle in our minds is not unlike a bicep. If you work it out every day, you’ll tone and define it. Maybe at first you won’t be able to lift a car one-handed, but as you keep building the muscle in different ways, it will become stronger. You can lift up the couch easily while you vacuum underneath it, it’s not a car, but it’s a start.
Until you stop.
Then the muscle returns to normal, maybe weaker than before, and you find yourself handing off a jar of pickles for someone else to open.
That is until one day, you wake up and remember, you wanted to be able to lift a car one-handed. You walk over to the couch, and try with all your might to lift it, and it doesn’t budge. You’re left with an ache in your shoulder and a small congregation of dust bunnies under your sofa. The good news? Muscle memory. If you’ve done it once, you can do it again. Your muscles remember what to do, even if you don’t, and with a little exercise, practice and discipline, they can jump right back on track. Your bicep muscles don’t forget, and neither does your creative writing muscles.
So here’s to starting back at square one. Am I willing to start all over again, to exercise that creative writing muscle in my mind until it is toned and defined? Damn straight I am. Are you?
It’s been a couple of months since I’ve written anything fictitious, and now when I try, my brain freezes up – it doesn’t flow like it used to. Ideas don’t just pop into my head, and a story doesn’t simply appear by staring at a blank screen.
Upon reflection, I believe the creative writing muscle in our minds is not unlike a bicep. If you work it out every day, you’ll tone and define it. Maybe at first you won’t be able to lift a car one-handed, but as you keep building the muscle in different ways, it will become stronger. You can lift up the couch easily while you vacuum underneath it, it’s not a car, but it’s a start.
Until you stop.
Then the muscle returns to normal, maybe weaker than before, and you find yourself handing off a jar of pickles for someone else to open.
That is until one day, you wake up and remember, you wanted to be able to lift a car one-handed. You walk over to the couch, and try with all your might to lift it, and it doesn’t budge. You’re left with an ache in your shoulder and a small congregation of dust bunnies under your sofa. The good news? Muscle memory. If you’ve done it once, you can do it again. Your muscles remember what to do, even if you don’t, and with a little exercise, practice and discipline, they can jump right back on track. Your bicep muscles don’t forget, and neither does your creative writing muscles.
So here’s to starting back at square one. Am I willing to start all over again, to exercise that creative writing muscle in my mind until it is toned and defined? Damn straight I am. Are you?
Labels:
creative writing,
exercise,
mind muscle memory,
practive
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