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It was fascinating reading through the answers here. Why am I taking this course again? Because I think that there’s no end to the growth, and that each time we hear a lecture or take a course,even if we’ve heard it before, something new resonates within us and leaves its mark. I’ve also found the course to be a real gold mine for finding wonderful writers to learn from and help. My cartel is growing and is a wonderful source of support and encouragement. I can see myself growing as a writer, and it’s all thanks to Joe and all of you.
I find that writing is a wonderful release, for my thoughts and emotions. It makes me happy, and touches other people’s lives as well.
When I took the course the first time, I wanted to be a traditionally published author. Now I’m not so sure. But I do know that I do want to be published and get my work out there.
I am writing more than ever before, and even if it’s not full-time, from week to week the amount of time I spend writing continues to grow. My goal is not to publish an international best-seller–although I certainly won’t complain if that happens–but rather to touch lives and introduce people to new ideas and thoughts. I know that through my blog I manage to do that, although still on a small scale. Hopefully, this course–which got me to start my blog in the first place–will also help me strengthen my platform further.
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Oops, I think the part you loved is actually what you wrote. I did copy paste to make sure I covered all the details you wanted us to cover and that was your last line, which somehow didn’t get deleted.
What can I tell you Joe, you just come up with brilliant lines, even if you don’t recognize it at the time 🙂
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@JLS
Wow, sounds like an interesting story. I remember reading about wind wagons, though not much. More covered wagon sagas.
Did you post the windwagon
story here?And Btw, I think joe would get a kick out of groupie shirts 🙂
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ICE, revisited
ICE
“Water. Can I just have a glass of water?”
“I’m sorry, Ann, but you’re in labor. No drinking allowed.”
“What labor? Nothing’s happening!” Ann grumbled.
“You’re having contractions now.”
“No I’m not.”
The nurse merely smiled and patted her hand. Ann felt tempted to release a
string of expletives, but sighed instead.“Nurse, have you ever had contractions? This is not my first baby, and believe you me, I would recognize one. It’s hot and I’m thirsty and I want a cup of water.”
Once again the nurse flashed her patronizing smile and said, “No drinking allowed when you’re in labor, but I’ll bring you some ice chips to suck on.”
Ann counted to ten and despite her desire to kill, kill, kill, smiled wanly.
This should never have happened. Two weeks past her due date, an unseasonable heat wave, her kids on vacation, and the maternity ward under renovation and without adequate air conditioning seemed like one strike too many.
At her last appointment, Ann’s doctor had told her she needed to go to the hospital to be monitored every 2 or 3 days until she gave birth. She wasn’t quite sure why today they decided to keep her; there had been no change in the last ten hours. No contractions, no matter what the nurse said, but still no food or drink. Ann was already regretting sending her husband home hours ago to be with the kids. But although hot and cranky and alone, she wasn’t helpless.
Looking down at her distended body, she grimaced. She had never gained so much weight before in any of her pregnancies; she no longer recognized herself. Her body looked like a dirigible with appendages, and by now was as difficult to maneuver. Contractions! If only. Ann couldn’t wait to birth this baby already; she missed her old vaguely remembered body.
With great effort she managed to shift her body without pulling any of the wires attached or setting off any alarms. Locating the dangling bed controls, she lifted the back of her bed to try and ease some of her discomfort. Ann ran her fingers through her sweaty, matted brown hair and flapped it a bit to cool off her neck. Next she adjusted the foot of her bed. She pulled on the gaily printed sheet covering her body and wiggled her toes.
“Hello, feet,” she murmured. “Long time no see.”
Feeling a bit better, Ann smiled when the nurse brought her the cup of ice chips. When the nurse left the room, Ann placed the cup on the window sill near her bed and moved the curtain to hide it.
Ann waited patiently. When the student nurse came in to take her blood pressure and check the monitor for the umpteenth time, Ann put on her best smile and tried again. “It’s so hot in here. Can I have a cup of water?”
“I’m sorry, it says no food or drink on your chart.”
“How about some ice chips to cool me down?”
“Sure thing!”
Once the young woman had left her alone in the stark room with the fresh cup of ice chips, Ann furtively looked around to make sure that no one was watching. She placed the new cup of ice chips on the window sill, and retrieved the first cup. Wonderful! The ice chips were now swimming in water. Ann gulped it down and sighed in relief. Finally!
Throughout the rest of the day, Ann kept on asking different staff members for cups of ice chips which would disappear behind the curtain to be replaced by a cup of melted ice on her bed stand. Luckily, by the time her contractions actually did begin sometime after midnight, she was no longer parched. Her husband, summoned by the nurses, now kept her supplied with ice chips to suck on and to cool her down.
At seven in the morning, their ten-pound baby boy was born. As Ann leaned back in the bed cuddling the new baby, her husband asked, “So, have a name for him?”
“I dunno, something refreshing.”
Her husband made a face. “Refreshing?”
“Something watery,and cool.” She considered for a moment. “Let’s name him Ice.”
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Thanks, Ann. Funnily enough, the kill line was added in over here after I did copy paste from my word doc. A last minute impulse. Glad it worked. And yes, definitely only light descriptions.
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That’s the way I write too. I just sit down and start and let the story take me where it will. But afterwards I always check the logic.
I have no problem reading and enjoying unreal situations e.g. fantasy, magic, etc., but even there it has to be true and logical within the confines of the story. I love it when an author can sweep me away into magical realms and make it come alive for me. And that’s the challenge in every story we write, make it come alive and seem real to the reader.
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Hi Jyl! I wouldn’t worry about what you’re “supposed” to write. Think rather about what you’d like to write. A story from you life? from your family history? A story of the sun peeking out from behind the clouds and filling your life with sunshine and hope? Don’t hit yourself over the head with it, but try asking yourself these questions and seeing what you come up with.
I had no idea what to write for the first exercise, but was tickled by Joe’s mention of starting a story with wanting something, even if it’s only a cup of water. So that’s exactly how my story, ICE begins. You can take any prompt and ask yourself Who? Why? What? When? etc. about it to get yourself going. And even if you’ve never written before, you can start and learn to write.
And besides, you have a whole community here to encourage you and help you on the way.
Hope this helps.
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How could I resist
joining all of you here? -
Thanks, Christy. Thought I already responded, but can’t find it here.
I’m always bad about description. I tend to forget about it and add it later, so good catch. Back to the writing boards 😉
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Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. I particularly liked: with an ease that put toes to shame, but there were many other great lines as well. Great story about aging and death.
There were two lines, that I didn’t like: “There were supposed to be more of him out here.” I found that line a bit ambiguous. Did you mean to say that there were supposed to be more like him out here? Also, the line about him not being a dog. Dogs sometimes eat what they bring up, but not always. I wasn’t sure if you were referring to that or not. But certainly someone who is not familiar with dogs would have no clue.
Look forward to more of your writing.
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Yeah! More Daniel! I love your voice, but that’s not news. When Daniel begins talking he just draws me in and puts a big smile on my face. I could never pinpoint just one or two lines that I like, so just believe me when I say there are lots of great lines.
critiques: I’m not sure how his mother tricked him. Telling him Annie’s going is not a trick unless it’s not true…
Also, if he’s 9, isn’t he young for 5th grade?One other point which is for the sequel and not this part: in the first book, we hear about Daniel’s father, but we never really see him. I think he should be more visible here. (And I’m still waiting for an explanation about the Dad’s toys in the attic…)
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Wow, this was really good! You did a great job of building the tension. And the ending was a surprise. Also love how you painted the word pictures. So, was it the pills, or was there something there? Is this the beginning of something bigger?
Minor details: His eyelids twitched, and almost-closed, formed slits. The first comma should be after the and.
Also, you have rustling under the bed followed by footsteps. I was imagining the rustling come from the thing crawling under the bed, which doesn’t fit with the footsteps.
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Wow, great premise and great ending. Regarding the writing, I’d use more show and less tell, and I’d avoid the shifts between the people. It’s wonderful giving different perspectives, but there are too many shifts in a short piece and nothing to ease us into the shift. If you wanted to develop this into something longer, maybe alternate between a chapter from John’s perspective and one from Elenora.
Content wise, I have problem with the logic. If 10000 people have disappeared, how are there 500,000 specials? The math just doesn’t add up. Also, by taking women with teenaged sons, they’re taking people with limited reproduction capabilities, which doesn’t make much sense to me.
These are all fixable issues, but doing so would strengthen the writing. Enjoy!
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Wow, what a surprise ending! I see you have no problems with descriptions, you do it very well. I won’t repeat other comments. I would change the beginning to read “The town hadn’t changed much in 20 years” since in the very next sentence you do mention a change.
Also, I wouldn’t make their deaths 3 weeks earlier, because with that time span, the sister certainly could have brought her up to date. And I wonder if the sister wouldn’t be arrested for her part in it, and if the police wouldn’t have notified the narrator.
As for writing 750 word stories: I belong to a linkedin group where we write 4000 character stories every week. It works out to between 650 and 700 words. At first I found it really hard, but I’ve learned to do it. It’s really a great skill for getting the essence across and teaches one to trim and sharpen the story.
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Wow, sounds like a great subject! Interested in learning more.
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