Thursday, March 29, 2012

Writing workshop

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Last night I went to a creative writing workshop sponsored by my church. It was a small group but it was great meeting other writers. Writing can some times be a lonely activity so it is fun getting together and hearing other people's thoughts. 

We went through some exercises to get our thoughts out on paper. We focused on our memories to maybe use for a story, but mostly just to get thoughts on our paper. Our second exercise was called "The Old 'Hood". On a piece of paper, we drew a 1/2-inch square somewhere in the middle of the page. This represents the house you grew up in. 

Surrounding that square, draw what you can remember of the neighborhood where you grew up. Draw houses, streets, landmarks, etc. (from a bird's eye perspective). Be thorough, but don't worry about detail, and no one will see it, so you it doesn't have to be pretty. Just show what goes where roughly. Then do the following:
  • In 3 minutes, make a list all the people who live on that map.
  • Pick 3 people and write down one memory of each.
  • Pick 1 of those people and write down three more memories.
  • Pick 1 of those memories and write about it. As much as possible.
I picked my best friend from my child home Katie. It was a great little exercise and I thought I would share my more polished answer with you...

My best friend Katie and I were always together, we lived next door to each other and we were always running in between each other's houses.  I don't remember any one being around us, everyone else around us just seemed too busy to really be in our lives, she had four brothers and my mom was a single working mom so when we were together it was just us. I remember together we never had to look perfect or stylish. She had long dark hair and she never worried about it being messed up, she just pushed it away. And we never worried about having perfect clothes, our parents didn't have a lot of money so we were mostly stuck with hand-me-downs or clothes that were bought at good will and we were okay with that. I thought she was such a tomboy the way she always wanted to play Mighty Morphin Power Rangers (she was the yellow one, I was the pink one) and she never minded getting pushed around by her brothers. But we also played Barbies together, and she introduced me to Alanis Morisette (who I thought was so rock then). Some of my 
favorite memories with her were on my swing set racing to see who could see over the fence the fastest. We could be out on her trampoline or my swing set until sun down and I always remember it being summer so sunset was pretty late. 
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I really enjoyed the exercises in dealing with memory. I hope if any more writing workshops come up I can go because I think it is really important to have a writing community.

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Procrastination is Bliss

Video: Downton Abbey (Season 1 & 2)
Music: Rolling in the Deep by Adele (Instrumental)

Over the weekend when I was procrastinating doing some homework, I got caught up in watching some YouTube videos. YouTube know my love of Downton Abbey so it recommended this one to me and I loved it so I thought it would be fun to share. Hope you like it too. 



Monday, March 26, 2012

Outside my comfort zone

bits of splendor
My bit of splendor comes from stepping outside my comfort zone. On Saturday night some of my friends got together to hang out and it turned out to be a night of improve. We have done improv games in the past but I am really hesitant because it pushes me out of my comfort zone. I told my friend earlier that night that I liked structure, I liked order and my little box. Improv is outside that little box, it has very little structure, and you are not always to be logical but crazy and fun. I can be crazy and fun but it is hard for me to do it when it is on demand. While Improv pushes me out of my comfort zone Saturday night was great fun and it was a wonderful moment of splendor. 
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Saturday, March 24, 2012

Re-writing


Late in February, I wrote about how I was having a mental block, I felt in my story I had written myself into a corner and I didn't know how to back myself out of the corner.

It is hard to explain but I had to go back to the part of the story where it made sense and begin again. I guess some times writing a novel is like going through a maze. When I am writing a story I like to lay out the main points of the plot in my head but most of the time the actions of the characters take the writing places I never suspected. While this is an awesome time to explore sometimes my characters get lost and as a writer I have to put them on the right path. I like writing to explore these different paths sometimes it gets frustrating when you get so lost you don't know how to find your way. As an writer when that happens I have to put down my story again and wait for inspiration to hit me again.
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With out further ado here is a part of my re-write "They all Cleared out" in "A Lonely, Empty house"....
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            With in a week the house was cleared out of all its guest. No one was overly sad to leave, or gushed over the parting. They didn't praise their hostess with thanks for a wonderful or unforgettable summer, in fact most of the group wish to put the whole season behind them. So they said their goodbyes in a very orderly fashion. Julia pretended could not wait to see her cousins again and she pretended to wish them well but it was all a façade. Her heart was over joyed to leave and get ready for Mrs. Crane's ball and thought of the gown she have to order when they arrived back home. Victoria kissed her nieces goodbye and gave a tight hug to Emmy telling her everything would be alright but she didn't gush or show any deep emotion. Emmy really didn't really care to show any emotion. Emmy really didn't care to show any emotion. She had hated that the society's standards required her to stand out there and see her visitors off, she would rather be by her creek. Laurel felt much the same as Emmy and was relieved when their guest were in the motor coach and out of their lives. The girls did not even wait for the coach to be through the gate.
            Fiona took a deep breath once the coach was out of sight. She turned back and looked at her house. Without the guest she could focus on her family again. A task that seemed too big for her to handle on her own. Her mother's health was decreasing by the day, she was now being confined to her room and if she could make her room and if she could make an appearance it was only to the upstairs parlor and only for a few minutes. Laurel served her grandmother diligently but had hardly spoken two words together to any one since the night that she revealed her heartache. Those word's she  said that night rang through Fiona's head over and over again. Emmy had hardly done anything since Caleb left except for become a shell of her former self. Emmy would go to the creek, a place that used to be a source of delight was now the place she mourned. She would spend most of the day but the creek come back with red swollen eyes sit at the dinner table saying nothing and she barely touch her food. Miss Pembers the loyal house keeper, asked that they only serve Miss Emmy's favorites in order to entice her to eat but nothing worked. Fiona could tell that Emmy was not getting over Caleb and it was only growing worse Fiona wished she knew what to say of what to do to comfort her daughter but nothing came to mind. She only knew she could not carry this burden alone. Whenever she had a burden she turned to her dear friend Iris.
            Iris Dumont and her had been friends since their school days and she always had a way of making things better than they appeared. Her father owned a nice shop that provided enough of a fortune to put Iris in the best schools, and gave some money to her name. Iris had met Alfred Dumont, the man Mrs. Cromwell had hoped would marry Fiona, at Fiona's debutant ball and was he was delighted in her delicate soft look and meek manners. After Fiona and Jefferson were firmly settled Alfred called upon Iris frequently enough that talk spread all over Boston and within six months they were engaged and another six month passed before they were married. Iris had gone from a shop girl to a woman of society. Through all this Fiona and Iris stayed very close friends after Jefferson passed away Iris took in the Cromwell girls. There would be days that Fiona could not get out of bed and Iris was there to care for them as if she was their own mother. Everyone thought it was sad that Iris had such a maternal instinct but could have no children of her own so she made the Cromwell girls her own. And to Iris there was no more important people than the Cromwell girls. When she read Fiona's letter of Laurel and Emmy's heart ache her heart pounded in pain. She wrote quickly to Fiona saying that she would be there with in a fortnight.
.... 
That is exactly where Laurel was. Earlier that afternoon before Iris had come Laurel had received a small parcel. She didn't want anyone to fuss over it so she took it out to the gardens before anyone noticed. She could tell instantly it was from Ethan Foster, the hand writing matched a little not he had written her before he left. Inside the parcel was a little note that stated "Miss Cromwell, I saw this in a shop the other day and thought you would enjoy." It was a little pocket book of wild flower drawings but on the front cover was the inscription "your true friend, may you never forget. -E. Foster." She read it and pressed it against her heart. Until Aunt Iris found her out in the garden she was looking through all the pages going through all the pages going back to look the inscription then would hold it to her heart again.
            "There you are," Aunt Iris interrupted Laurel's train of thought.
            "Aunt Iris, I had not realized you had arrived yet. I would have been there to greet you."
            "Your mother and I had some things to discuss."
            "You are taking Emmy and I to Boston."
            "I am not taking you, I am inviting you to Boston. You are both growing up young ladies in need of seeing beyond the world of Pine Haven. You both should have a little diversion, a little culture and some new people to charm."
            "How civilized you make it all sound."
            "It is civilized, Boston is a splendid city with lots to do and see and some of the finest society on the east coast."
            "I know what mother intends."
            "She only wants your best. She is heartbroken over what has happened here this summer with you and Emmy. She thinks Boston will be good for you and I agree. But you think it over and let me know by the end of my visit."
            "I have already agreed to go."
            "I know, but I want you to come with me, I will not force you. You are graceful and eloquent with a perfect skill in etiquette but do not mask your pain from me. I have known you since you were a little baby, and I know a great deal of the burden you carry but do not forget to listen to your heart Laurel. Dinner is ready, come in when you want, we are going rather casual having dinner in the upstairs parlor, your mother did not want to make a big fuss."
          Though Aunt Iris told her to come in when she was ready she knew the tone meant come in now. It was the same tone that Fiona used when she told her something she did not want to do. Laurel tucked the book in her little drawstring purse, and followed Aunt Iris inside.

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