Writing Exercises

WORDSMITHS EXERCISE FOR WEDNESDAY 23RD AUGUST 2017


Writing Exercise

At Wordsmiths of Melton, words are our stock in trade. We use them to craft our stories, give them credibility and make the writing crisp and clear. If we are careless with the choice of those words, it brings our writing down. Les found these tips from different sources, and thanks go to Jeff Goins' website for these pointers to help with this exercise

Below is a list of words that are lazy, if we avoid them it will work to make the reader’s experience better.

LAZY WORDS
  • things, stuff, was, is, are, am, got, went

Other words that tell the reader what is happening rather than showing them, are:


  •  very, important, all, ever, feel, seem, almost, have, often, never, think, used-to, almost,  small, big, just.

YOUR MISSION

Take the following piece of writing that includes many of the words above and re-write to make it more readable.

Mary got to work late yet again. Why? Because she went to see her boyfriend to see if he had picked up the things she’d asked him to buy from the chemist. This was stuff she needed to keep up her appearances if she was to keep her job. Her boss, Mr Jones, said she was always to look her best, not to come in if she didn’t. She got up early every morning, allowing more time than was necessary, just to be sure her makeup was right, her hair just so. It was worth it because Mr Jones said if things kept going along as well as they were she was in line for a promotion. Just think, head girl in the perfume department. All that fancy smelling stuff to play with all day. It hardly seemed possible.

More Writing Resources
To find many more tips and helpful hints on writing check out
    
Your Challenge should you accept it, is to re-write the passage above, taking care to avoid any of those words on the list. Write can write your story into the comments field or using a word format, copy and paste into the same. I'm sure our members and other visitors to the site will love reading your adaptations. 


Member T.R. Drayton  suggested members spend ten minutes to write to the theme:

        A CAR FOUND THIRTY YEARS AFTER THE ACCIDENT 

Here is the piece from Les Stillman:

The news flash, ‘BODY FOUND IN CAR,’ caught my attention.
I placed my coffee down and turned up the volume, ‘Police today retrieved a black Toyota Carola, from a gorge on the road to King Lake. The vehicle, stolen thirty years ago from a Melbourne car yard, contained the mummified body of the driver. At this stage, police consider it a possible road accident. However, the forensic team are in attendance. The victim has not been identified.

My heart started to pound and a picture of the car I’d clipped all those years ago came into my mind. A black Toyota Corolla, travelling at speed, heading straight for me around the bend. I’d swerved to the left but still clipped the right-hand wheel panel of the car, sending it spiralling out of control over the edge of the road and down into the tangle of bush. I braked and ran back, looking over the edge, but the car had been swallowed up amongst the underbrush. I couldn’t afford to notify the police. Running from a robbery, the loot filling my car, it didn’t seem like a good idea. Knowing the driver couldn’t have survived, I got back into my own car and left, putting from my mind – until now.









WORDSMITHS EXERCISE FOR WEDNESDAY 3RD AUGUST 2017
AS SET BY FACILITATOR MATTHEW NAQVI


Take ten minutes to write something themed: - My Happy Piece
For most of us it was quite a challenge and below is a link to some of these stories.




WORDSMITHS EXERCISE FOR OUR FUN DAY WEDNESDAY THE 31 AUGUST




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For this exercise, write two short stories to complement each other, set in a holiday resort (in a location of your choice) for two characters, photos have been sent to your e-mail address. 

Writing in first person for both, show each one’s personality, style, attitude, and philosophy, i.e. seductive, troubled, relaxed or dark and dangerous, etc., etc. 

They can be a couple, enemies, total strangers or whatever combination you like. 

Make sure you keep the focus of the two stories on the location and these two characters only. There are to be no other people in either story.

Up to two hundred and fifty words for each of them, with a maximum of five hundred words total.


The exercise Les set turned out to be fun for everyone. 

The first photo was of a woman in her late twenties dressed in expensive fabric and wearing a veil,was she as she appeared eastern and exotic or a model dressed to give the viewer that impression. 

The man was a portrait of a fellow who could have stepped from the screen of a black and white Bogart movie.

We  decided to publish a few examples below and first out of the blocks is Judy.



WORDSMITHS EXERCISE FOR OUR FUN DAY WEDNESDAY THE 31 AUGUST

JUDY RIGBY

͠

My heart soars when I see his face. I have him.
He stands as if frozen in my open doorway. His lips are parted and his eyes are blinking as if dazed in the headlights.
I resist the urge to reach out and smooth the furrow that has formed between his eyebrows. I allow a smile and the skin tightens and moves around my eyes. He registers the movement and, with a tiny shake of his head, rearranges his face. He drops his eyebrows and tries to return my smile, but only manages something between a grimace and a grin.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says, ‘where are my manners? You surprised me. I didn’t expect—’
‘You didn’t expect me to dress up?’
‘No, well, yes. I did expect you to dress up, but not like this.’
‘You don’t like what I’m wearing?’
‘I love what you’re wearing, but I—’
‘It’s too showy?’
‘Oh, no, it’s…’ he pauses and colour begins to rise in his cheeks. ‘I’ve only seen you in black before, and—
‘You think I’m immodest for abandoning black?’
He opens his mouth as if to protest and I allow myself to laugh. His eyes widen and now he smiles a smile that transforms his face and dances in his eyes.
Yes, I have him, I tell myself as I step towards him and shut the door behind me.
‘Shall we go?’ I say to him, ‘You lead the way.’

͠

I feel her presence behind me as I walk down the corridor. The fabric of her dress sighs and beads clink with each step she takes. I confess that the sight of her, backlit by lamplight in the open door of her luxury penthouse suite, did startle me. She looked otherworldly, a diaphanous being, and for a moment I wavered under her spell, drawn into those brown, languid eyes and aware of her siren call in the deep recesses of my brain.
Don’t be a chump, I tell myself, now. Remember who she is and why you’re here. Don’t let yourself get side-tracked.
I mentally check my pocket with its holstered Glock 27 and ignore the itch in my fingers to touch it. I try to focus on my breathing. Too fast and too shallow.
Breathe in, one, out two, in three, out four—
‘You haven’t said where we’re going,’ her voice sounds breathily close to my ear.
My heart skips a beat and the vision of her in the doorway rises into view. I gulp in more air and turn my head towards her voice. 
She’s almost at my shoulder. I catch a waft of her perfume and recognise it, Hypnotic Poison. She laughs, a melody of dancing notes that seem to swirl around my head. Sweat prickles on my brow, my mouth feels dry and my tongue won’t move.
‘Are you all right?’ her voice is barely a whisper.

No, I think, I don’t think I am.


KEVIN DRUM:      The Meeting


I nervously brush the lint from my jacket, withdraw a cigarette from the silver embossed case, tap it on the cover and light it. I exhale and through the smoke haze scan the poolside bar and surroundings
The relaxed murmur of the guests enjoying evening drinks soothes me. Diamond Head is aglow in the background flaunting its evening dominance in the setting sun. As if in applause I hear the huge crashing waves of the Pacific Ocean on the nearby foreshore.
Where is she? I’ve travelled half way around the world to meet her. Surely she won’t let me down. Surely?
From the first moment I saw her I was transfixed by her beauty and quiet assurance. I was drawn by her eyes, dark liquid pools, mysterious as an Arabian night. The brief contact as we were introduced, her exotic fragrance, the feigned fall, and her quiet but forceful words. ‘I want you more than life itself. Help me to get out of here.’
There’s some movement, bustling, just near the entrance. Shouting. I am adrenaline charged prepared for anything. I move quickly towards the commotion, and there she is. A large swarthy man has hold of her arm, dragging her. ’Let me go! she cries. ’Let me be.’
I drop to one knee, aim the Glock and fire. At that precise instant they stumble. I see the bullet hole to the forehead, deadly and final.


I am blessed as part of a wealthy family. I want for nothing. What more could my heart desire?
Until that fateful day.
I see him and know it is meant to be. He isn’t an important emissary or leader. Just part of one of the many retinues my family entertain in pursuit of their business. With that fluid movement I find so attractive, he works the room.
Secluded beyond my chador, I can only watch in breathless admiration.
Now he is in front of me, takes my hand and with a slight bow, ‘enchanted I’m sure.’ I trip and he stoops to help. ’I want you more than life itself,’ I whisper, ’get me out of here.’
He answers. ‘I’ll leave a note with the doorman. On it will be numbers. They are coordinates and a date. Go to the travel agent, near the clock tower, he will understand.’
‘Madam you are indeed fortunate, here is your passport, first class ticket to Honolulu, accommodation at the Chevron Surfrider Waikiki, and ten thousand dollars.’
We are on final approach into Honolulu. My anticipation is beyond belief.
The cab ride from the airport takes forever, until at last we have arrived. I jump out and call to the driver,’ leave my bags with the concierge, he will pay.’
I hurry to the poolside area, push open the doors and rush inside. I see him walking towards me.
‘Madam one moment please,’ the doorman grabs my arm and I lose balance.

Something is wrong he is down on one knee. Has he fallen?



CORFU by JULEE STILMAN
From her point of view

I saw him when he checked in; Ralph Lauren bag and attaché case, and a swagger of confidence.
He let the porter take his bag but kept the attaché glued to his side. What secrets were hidden in there? What was so important that he wouldn’t let it out of his sight? I hoped it was five-hundred-thousand dollars.
As soon as I could I took a peek at the register. Mr Roger Butterworth was in a suite on the second floor. The suite next to mine. No connecting door, but that was not going to be a problem.
We met for dinner. Two perfect strangers on a perfect Corfu night. Our conversation was teasing.  Furtive glances, coy smiles. The clink of crystal. His silent acknowledgement that he would follow me anywhere. My ambition hidden behind my silk tangerine scarf.
My flight was booked. My suitcase packed. In five days’ time Roger would head back to his boring job in Melbourne and I…Well, I would be flying in the opposite direction, five-hundred-thousand dollars richer.
Men are so easy to bait and I already have another one on the hook.

And from his perspective.

Crisp white shirt, striped blue tie and a navy sports coat with gold buttons. That’s what I wear almost every day. That or something similar. It’s what my job as a general manager of one of Melbourne’s largest banks demands – something that says I’m dependable, trustworthy and it’s safe to leave your money in my hands.
However, I’m not dependable, nor am I trustworthy and it’s definitely not safe to leave money in my hands. At least not money I can embezzle. By all means put it in a safe deposit box, turn it into bonds or shares, but don’t leave it in an account where I can get my hands on it. Especially if I’m desperate to impress a pretty girl.
That’s why I’m sitting on the terrace of a five-star hotel in Corfu. Attentive waiters, good food and excellent ouzo. My eyes wander over a cobalt blue ocean and then back to the terrace with its terrazzo tiling. Then on to a corner table and the girl I stole five-hundred-thousand dollars for.



WHAT IF by Les Stillman

I love this place. It’s simply enchanting. So exotic. Palm trees and potted plants everywhere, and the blue of the sea, it’s simply divine. The staff look wonderful in their lovely native costumes and they cater to one’s every need. No radios or papers to disturb the tranquillity, a shield from the worries of the outside world, this place is just heaven. Hmm, the pool looks so cool and inviting.
‘I say Dickie, what about a quick dip before drinkies?
Hate this place. What a disaster. Damn trees and spiked shrubbery everywhere, and the glare off that bloody ocean is giving me a headache. The staff look like clowns in those bloody awful costumes, constantly bothering me. Cut off from civilisation. No radios or even a newspaper, this place is a nightmare. God she wants to go for a swim, not likely after all these yokels have been in there, never know what you might catch.
‘What’s that you say, old girl? Drinkies? Rather.’
What a splendid idea they have, asking the guests to dress for dinner in these wonderful outfits they’ve given us. ‘It’s so romantic, wearing these pretty costumes. I love this veil, it’s rather seductive don’t you think?’ I wish Dickie would put his outfit on, instead of wearing his suit. He’d look like a foreign prince, instead of a stuck up, pompous Englishman. 
Couldn’t believe it when they gave us these ghastly costumes to wear to dinner. No, no, no. I have my suit, and that’ll do me just fine.
‘I say old girl; must you wear that bloody veil. Makes you look like some sort of harem girl don’t you know.  And before you ask – no, I will not wear that bally clown outfit.’
Horrible beast, if it wasn’t for the scandal, I’d chuck him out. Hmmm, still, he can be charming at times and I do make him look good when I’m on his arm.
Silly woman. By God, if it wasn’t for her money, I’d divorce her on the spot. Hmmm, still, not a bad set of pins on her, if you know what I mean.

I do love it here, so tranquil. Or it would be without Dickie. Now all I have to do is convince him to go and leave me here. ‘Dickie my love. What if…’







3 comments:

  1. Where can I get photos?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. The photos are now at the head of the page, thanks for asking.

      Delete
  2. There is some great writing on this page - a terrific response to the prompt. Well done.

    ReplyDelete