I have learned a very special lesson in the past couple of days. I've been reading a book called "Bird by Bird," Anne Lammot, and she talked about how her father had to take time out of his day to really work on his writing. I did not take time yesterday to work on my writing, and fell behind. I will be doing yesterday's and today's exercise today.
Exercise 4
This is a long one. It taught me about different types of openings for stories and asked me to write a sentence for each type and then go back and start a story, but use different types of opening sentences and see how they change the story.
With a generalization
We all know the stories from the old folks homes are true, but none of us really wanted to believe there were ghosts living there.
With a description of a person
The woman had auburn hair, a grey coat, and a slight tilt to her mouth that hinted that she knew more to the story than she was giving. She was our only witness to the robbery, but why was she out for a walk at night in a coat in 73 degree weather?
With narrative summary
Alfonso had been working at Papa Giani's Pizzaria for thirteen years as a pizza maker. Papa Giani was like a real father to him too, but Papa had just announce his retirement and his successor: Ralfi. Ralfi and Alfonso had started at the pizzaria at around the same time, but it had taken Ralfi a little longer to understand the art of making pizza. Alfonso had picked it up faster, and was head "chefarino" as they called it at Giani's, before Ralfi was allowed to prepare any on his own. Ralfi got even though and started shadowing Giani in the business side of things, and now Ralfi felt like he was getting the last laugh.
With dialogue
"Josh, dude, you know you're like a brother to me right?" Michael called from the bathroom.
"Sure." Josh called back from the living room.
"I need you to come in here and take a look at something."
With several characters and no dialogue
The boys sat outside on the roof smoking cigars and taking pulls of a Jameson bottle that was passed between them. The party was still going on downstairs, but it was that point in the night where everyone was starting to pair off and start hooking up. None of them felt any special need to get a faceless girl to go down on them that night, so they just enjoyed the sweet and tangy smoke that filled their lungs.
With a Reminiscent Narrator
It was the summer that I turned 17 and Janey Smithe was about to become my girlfriend. She had no idea it was going to happen, and I had no idea how I was going to make it happen.
With a Child Narrator
Under the bed is my secret world because I can pretend that anything is happening in that darkness. I especially like to act like I'm in a movie theater and all the yelling I hear is just part of a scary movie that I know will be over soon.
By Establishing Point of View
First Person
James always asked me to come out and play when we were younger. He still does, but now he throws rocks at my window instead of ringing the doorbell.
Third Person
In the dusty corner of the old frontier general store a little boy sat in heavy thought, or at least as heavy thought as a nine-year-old could muster.
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Now my story I want to start comes from Exercise 1- see if you can tell which sentence I'm using.
Generalization
Saying "I love you" is never easy for anyone, but when you say it to the right person, everything seems to hit you at once.
Description
Anne was a semi-beautiful girl with soft but thin blonde hair and thin but regularly set cheekbones. Her eyes were not remarkably blue like her blond hair would have suggested, but dark brown that clashed with her long almost translucent eyelashes. She was average looking, but she was loved by a wonderful man.
Narrative
Anne and Henry had been dating only a short time, but it was always very clear to them they were perfect for each other. Their first date had been a regular dinner and a movie, but there never seemed to be an awkward moment. A month into the relationship, Anne didn't have to finish her sentences before Henry knew exactly what she was going to say. They were perfect, and they needed to tell each other.
Dialogue
"I love you."
While uttering those three little words, her face flushed, her entire body felt lighter and she was so happy. Two days later, while walking to her front door with her thoughts allowed to rattle around in her head, she suddenly felt a heaviness in her chest and a little nauseated. She was beginning to realize he may be it, the man.
Description of characters without dialogue
Anne and Henry stand there motionless at her front porch step, his arms wrapped around her shoulders, her hands clasped together at the crook of his back. They had said goodnight a few times by this point but neither wanted to let the other go. They both were aware this was going to be a special night, but neither wanted to be the first.
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Exercise 5
In this exercise, I am to write a story about a time in my childhood that made me terrified or weak, or gave me some type of strong reaction. I am supposed to put my heart on the page. I can really only think of one, so I'm sorry that you have to read this:
The phone was close enough to the softball diamond the adults would allow us to go, but far enough away we could still make a little mischief. We ran over and the taller of us picked up the receiver. It was one of those heavy, black things with probably a billion mutant bacteria on it, but we weren't aware of that having grown up with the hand sanitizer craze yet to hit. She began poking the silver buttons on the pad, each with a muted metallic click under her pudgy finger.
"Yes, hello, I would like to order a pizza. Extra cheese and half pepperoni, and half sausage. What? You can't do that? Well then shove it up your butt!" She slammed the phone back on the receiver and we both began giggling.
It was my turn, so I picked up the receiver, put it to my ear and started pushing in our home phone number, one of the only ones I knew by heart. I heard the dial tone, and the computerized beeps as I pushed in the little nubs with my numbers on it- 2-8-2- and so forth until I had punched all seven. The dial tone began again, and then turned into the annoying disconnected sound you get when you had been on the phone too long. I didn't care, though, because I had a really great joke, and I was going to tell it.
"Uh... hi. Is your refrigerator running? Oh it is? Well you better go catch it!" I had probably heard this on last weeks nicktoon, but I thought it was hilarious, and so did my accomplice.
"You know you can still call 9-1-1 and they will pick up." She said her dark brown eyes boring into me daring me to say she was wrong.
"That can't be right, not on this phone, you have to pay to use it," I said dismissively, and then added a, "duh!" for good measure.
"Try it then," she said with something in her voice that made me start to believe she knew what she was talking about. Then she added, knowing I would have to do it an "I dare you."
I picked up the phone and started to dial the number. I wasn't about to act like I was scared, so I dialed quickly and stood there defiantly when I was finished. But the phone's dial tone wasn't there, but the automated ringing sound when a call actually goes through, and before I knew it, I heard "9-1-1, what's your emergency?"
My eyes about popped out of my head and I slammed the receiver back on the port and was about to run when the phone began to ring! My heart began to beat so fast, and my mouth felt dry. There was no way I was going to answer it. I looked at her begging with my dark chocolate drop eyes to not answer either, but she did not heed my advice and picked up the phone and began talking to the woman on the other end.
I began to rack my brain for the short six years I had been alive trying to think of a time when this would have happened to a Tanner sister or on the Rugrats. I came up short but knew it had to be a felony and that I was going to get grounded or not get to go to Zyanne's birthday party next week. My heart was pounding and I was about to start crying when she hung up the phone.
"Don't worry. I explained everything, we're fine. Don't cry."
"I'm not going to cry." I said only half convincingly. I know I have to will myself to stop, crying would just make me look guilty. At that moment, she and I made a pact to not tell anyone, ever.
Today, I'm 23, and I'm finally breaking that pact.
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