I just started with a new writing group this week. They meet once a month, are more structured than any others I’ve been, and all are at least at semi-pro level.
I submitted the story that I’ve classed as my worst story ever. Why is it that? Because I was experimenting. It was a glorious mess. And really, I had thought about just leaving it behind and counting it as good experience. But this group really pulled out some great questions and suggestions. So I’ll take another stab at it. You know, because blood is always good for the page.
One of the things we’re doing are writing exercises. This week, we had to write a conversation and then were given a secret one of the parties had, and had to finish and/or add things in. One thing I like is the pressure. No time for the inner editor, just write.
She walked up to the counter, peering at the pastries behind the glass. Should she get one? Here? She still wasn’t sure why she’d come here.
“May I help you?” asked the young man behind the counter. He had blond hair and a long but pleasant face.
“Uhhm,” Karen looked again. Okay. She’d try it. “Yeah, what is your best thing here?”
“I love the apple fritters,” said the clerk, “Not too greasy. Lots of apple and a touch of cinnamon.”
“Thank you. I’ll take that then.” She looked up at the menu, frustrated. “Is there something to drink that goes well with it?”
“The coffees are too strong. But a nice Earl Grey or Chamomile will go well with it.”
She sat down to wait at a table. Around her, racks of magazines and books kept their covers shut against her. She could come. She could worship. But she could never partake.
Okay, a little rough. The secret that a writer I admire a great deal gave me was “You’re character can’t read.” Very weird, because I’d already placed her in a cafe in a bookstore, and originally she was more interested in the guy.
I love tea at the bookstore.
Anyway, here are a few zings.
1. On another carpool errand that happened to be at night, I saw someone swinging a green light saber in the middle of the school yard. A really bright one too. This wasn’t a child’s cheap toy.
2. Our puppy barks at the snow, with her warning bark.
3. A really dark road that has had some construction going on it.
4. A french guy texting an american woman from across the big pond.
5. Does anyone ever grow up thinking they want to create indexes? I’m not sure, but it sounds like an interesting job.
6. Also like the job naming make-up or paint colors, and fragrances. That job is probably definitely not one usually aspired to but what a fun thing!
And one last thing in this long and rather disjointed post. I finished going over the proofs of my book, Vue 7 From the Ground Up. It is so very fun to see it all come together. To know that at the very least, I have my own ISBN number.