For those of you who don't know, this is a blog about writing exercises. These exercises I've found around the web and may possibly come up with on the spot. This is just for fun and to get me into the habit of writing frequently. I hope you will join me on this journey of writing. I will be posting every Tuesday and Friday as long as I have steam to do so.
Exercise 12:
If you are having
trouble with a piece of prose, try these exercises to think of it as a whole:
1) If my piece (story, chapter, essay, novel) were an object small enough to
hold in my hands, what would it be? An orange? A cage with a cricket in it? 2) My
piece is a boat. I imagine it launching, and its journey, and where it ends up.
Is it on a river, an ocean? a lake? What kind of boat? Weather?
My Story is a….
1] If my novel were an object small enough to hold in my
hands, what would it be?
It
would be a slightly used penny starting out heads but flipping and spiraling
out of control until it lands on tails, morphing into a new shiny quarter.
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Authors Note:
To be entirely honest with you, I wasn’t sure what to do
with this exercise. It’s probably far
briefer than it should be; however, that’s why I’m posting 2 exercises this
week.
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Exercise 13:
It's summertime in the northern
hemisphere. Lie back in your hammock, literally or in imagination, and put
yourself in a daydreamy mood. The heat has settled in, but in your mind
you are travelling. You take a trip to a place you've never been-- perhaps to
wander with the Emperor penguins in Antarctica; or perhaps a trip into the
past, farther back than your own lifetime, into your grandfather's early years;
or the trip might be into your own bloodstream and around your lungs and heart.
Whether it is a real place or a fantasy place, whether it is possible in
real life to go there or not, write the adventure. In this kind of weather,
it's best to limit strenuous activity to your imagination!
Where Can I Escape?
(Free-write)
I lie
here in the summer heat, yet my mind is somewhere else. The
days have been long and hard lately, and I can think of only one thing. I must escape. I must travel on a journey of the mind.
Then in an instant I’m riding a
magic carpet and floating above puffy white clouds. The sun is gleaming in my face, hot and
bright. Above me is endless blue sky. I hear the ruffling of the edges of the
carpet made of ornate designs of red and gold.
It looks like the carpet out of a luxurious palace.
I travel downward toward a green
meadow with rolling hills. I can feel
the wind in my face, and smell the freshness of spring. The tall grass glides across the bottom of my
carpet. Next to my flying carpet floats
a bird in mid-air. It’s a red tailed
hawk. It appears to want to race me.
A huge smile plays upon my lips as
I take the challenge and soar into the sky. I lean my body closer to the carpet for better
aerodynamics. At first, the red tailed
hawk soars next to me with continuous speed.
Then I see it drop into a spiraling dive. He or she is challenging me again.
I glare at the creature as I grip
onto the sides of the carpet and spiral toward the ground. It doesn’t think I can handle the move. The ground is closing in on me fast and just
before I plummet to my death I swerve into constant straight float above the
surface of the grass.
The red tailed hawk seems impressed
with me and I hear its scream. It soars
with me, as now a friend and no longer an opponent. Then it is gone and I find myself alone again. It's not a loneliness, but a happiness in solitude that I feel.
Below me the grass fades into a
drop off and below me shines the ruffles of water. I can see and hear the waves crashing against
the cliffs bottom edges. I breathe in
the air and I can smell the saltiness of it.
In the distance I spot an
island. From this far away it appears
small. My carpet descends upon the
island and I can conclude that I was terribly wrong. Below me is an island in the shape of a very large crescent moon.
My blue eyes were wide with wonder
as before me lay a village. This village
had huts made of bones, straw and mud.
The doors were made of bones stacked upon bones. Of what kind I could only imagine. The walls appeared
to be made of mud, and at closer inspection were made with rock.
I reached the edge of the village
and made a curve in my movement and below me in the sand was a small
child. It appeared to be a small girl
picking up sea shells. I could see a sand dollar within her grasp. I could only smile at the memory of collecting them as a child.
I continued to glide above the
beach and I caught a glimpse of a crab running across the sand. There were more footprints in the sand than I
could have expected. This island was
owned to a large tribe. I noticed a tide
pool with a starfish and a few sea anemones.
To the west the sun began to
descend into the depths of the deep ocean.
The water had become dark, and was no longer the teal-blue-green it had
previously been. It now appeared to be
dark blue. The clouds had moved over the
horizon, and the sun danced across them.
It made an image of pure beauty.
It had painted an image of oranges and pinks. It was perfect.
My eyes shot open and I stare at a
dark sky. I realize I’ve become toasted
by the sun. My skin feels like it’s on
fire. I must have truly fallen asleep. “If only that place were real and not just a
figment of my imagination.” I smile to
myself and head inside to apply aloe vera and to relax once more with visions
of marvelous places!
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Authors note:
This was a quick free-write. I just let my mind take me wherever it felt like going. It's rather scattered, of course I know. Its also childlike. But isn't that what fantasies are suppose to be? They are suppose to make you feel good aren't they? Fantasies can be powerful things at times. I hope this short story has inspired you to write something amazing! I had fun with this exercise.
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