Craft a scene based on what you wrote yesterday. Fill in the setting and the narrative action. Remember to put in sounds and smells. What else – other people? Interruptions? If the scene feels dull, add a twist. Make yourself or the toxic person do something completely unexpected half-way through the scene.
I didn't quite follow the prompt directions today, although I did write for fifteen minutes. Thirty, actually. I woke up this morning with the beginning of a story taking shape in my head, and after I got dressed and brushed my teeth, it was definite enough for me to write some notes down. Later, I read the prompt, and decided to try to incorporate some of the emotions and details of what I wrote about yesterday into the new story. The story was so new that it needed some emotional complications, some tension to spur the main character along. I'm not going to reprint the whole story here, just a piece which was particularly inspired by yesterday's writing. Oh, yeah--the piece is spec fic, some kind of post-apocalyptic something I haven't quite settled on yet.
***
Tonight, like every Midsummer evening, there are the lights
of nightfires scattered here and there across the Keepers' land, but, as
always, Old Sella has the biggest crowd. Star used to sneak away from his
family's fire to join ours, just every so often, but often enough for me to wonder
and to hope. He began to sit next to me more often than he sat next to my
sisters—Rosyn, the eldest, and Eos, two summers older than me. I used to blush
when my father would clear his throat, watching us closely as we ate, leaning
toward one another but not touching.
But this year, it has been different. Star has been
different. He no longer favors me over my sisters. On the rare occasions he
joins us, he spends time with all of us sisters, and he always makes excuses to
go home early instead of sneaking off with me into the dark, up our special
tree, to talk and dream. He scoffs at the things I like. When I make a silly
joke, the kind that used to make him snort and rumple my hair, he only smirks,
rolls his eyes knowingly, as if laughing at me along with some invisible
companion. An invisible companion he likes more than me.
And I can't help wondering if it's because, the night before
his test, exactly a year ago today, I kissed him. He'd leaned into me, clung to
me and answered my kiss with more ardent ones. It was more than I'd ever thought
possible. I was flying. And then, the next evening, when he and the other new
adult Keepers had returned from their journey to the glass ocean, he acted like I
didn't exist. When I asked him about our kiss, he grew angry and said never to
bring it up again.
***
So. There's about a page of writing before this section, and this is as far as I've gotten in the story. But I'm hoping to finish it this week. I'm not sure where it's ultimately going, although I have a vague idea of what happens next. As usual, I'm hoping if I just keep writing, something will come to me and I'll figure out how to end the damn thing.
2 comments:
Oooooooh. Me likey.
Don't worry, you'll get to read the rest of it this week. :)
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