Post by Edward Cheever on Feb 4, 2010 17:42:32 GMT -6
Today in our Rough Writers meeting we each wrote a sentance, and then we all had to use all of our sentances to write a short story. Here are our results!
Those sentances were:
1 - She walked down the narrow street, her heart beating wildly against her chest.
2- He wanted to start off with a monologue about Finland, but he had only been there in his dreams.
3- It was his goal, his desire, his holy grail.
Mine -
He read, “She walked down the narrow street, her heart beating wildly against her chest.” He knew that the word “narrow” had something to do with the overall theme of the piece, but he couldn’t tell what. Ted leaned back in his old office chair and folded his arms behind his head. His gazed wandered the ceiling and he blew at a strand of hair that flitted over his eyes. Literary Criticism was most certainly not his forte.
He looked back over his paper. The beginning was still rough. He wanted to start off with a monologue about Finland, but he had only been there in his dreams. Besides, there was no telling how the teacher would take it. He felt that Finland had something to do with the literary work, whose name he’d already forgotten, He was just… having some difficulty tying it all together. But if there was one thing that his High school classes had taught him, it was that Finland could be applied to anything.
But would his teacher understand this? Ultimately, this paper was a plea. A plea for a great grade. It had to be perfect. He knew that he wouldn’t get an A for anything less. His GPA was all important. It was his goal, his desire, his holy grail. The tangent in the third paragraph about the statues of Easter Island was extremely well done, he felt, and so it should remain. Transitioning back to the gritty noir was difficult however. Nevertheless, his political quip should suffice. Transitions are clichéd anyway, who needs them.
The conclusion at least was masterful. It was a moving tribute to his favorite pet, and the days before she died. Sure, he didn’t really mention the literature much in it. But he was certain it was the emotional impact that would count in the end.
He printed it out and stapled it confidently. His first paper in his first semester in college was ripe; fit to amaze and wonder his inept professors. This college thing wasn’t going to be so difficult after all.
Those sentances were:
1 - She walked down the narrow street, her heart beating wildly against her chest.
2- He wanted to start off with a monologue about Finland, but he had only been there in his dreams.
3- It was his goal, his desire, his holy grail.
Mine -
He read, “She walked down the narrow street, her heart beating wildly against her chest.” He knew that the word “narrow” had something to do with the overall theme of the piece, but he couldn’t tell what. Ted leaned back in his old office chair and folded his arms behind his head. His gazed wandered the ceiling and he blew at a strand of hair that flitted over his eyes. Literary Criticism was most certainly not his forte.
He looked back over his paper. The beginning was still rough. He wanted to start off with a monologue about Finland, but he had only been there in his dreams. Besides, there was no telling how the teacher would take it. He felt that Finland had something to do with the literary work, whose name he’d already forgotten, He was just… having some difficulty tying it all together. But if there was one thing that his High school classes had taught him, it was that Finland could be applied to anything.
But would his teacher understand this? Ultimately, this paper was a plea. A plea for a great grade. It had to be perfect. He knew that he wouldn’t get an A for anything less. His GPA was all important. It was his goal, his desire, his holy grail. The tangent in the third paragraph about the statues of Easter Island was extremely well done, he felt, and so it should remain. Transitioning back to the gritty noir was difficult however. Nevertheless, his political quip should suffice. Transitions are clichéd anyway, who needs them.
The conclusion at least was masterful. It was a moving tribute to his favorite pet, and the days before she died. Sure, he didn’t really mention the literature much in it. But he was certain it was the emotional impact that would count in the end.
He printed it out and stapled it confidently. His first paper in his first semester in college was ripe; fit to amaze and wonder his inept professors. This college thing wasn’t going to be so difficult after all.