There is no specific target to meet here. Just start writing and see
where it takes you. It might become a story that you want to develop
further, and you might carry on working on it. It might be something
where you write the first paragraph or two and then decide you don’t
want to proceed further, and you’d rather try another idea. That’s up to
you. Try to write at least 200 words, up to a maximum of 350 words in a
Word document, in your notebook or on your blog.
The Beginning
“Mind if I join you?”
A plump middle-aged man wearing a thick weatherproof jacket, scarf and woollen hat sat down without waiting for a reply.
“I see you’re a photographer.”
He nodded at my camera as he removed his hat, surprising me with the difference it made to his appearance. He had round features and was completely bald. I amused myself with the thought that my new companion had the sort of face that might look just the same upside-down.
“I’m Tom” he announced as we waited for our coffees to arrive. He had found somebody to talk to and, with a feeling of dismay, I realised that there would be no easy escape.
I nodded and smiled at what I thought were appropriate moments as Tom outlined the key highlights of his career in retail. He followed that with the rationale behind his latest blog, ‘Flat Broke’- a photo documentary of the last three years of his life in a single-bedroom flat.
“One latte and one Americano” interrupted the waitress.
Tom was in full flow but I wasn’t really listening. My gaze had fallen on the next table. A pretty, young Asian girl was writing furiously in a cheap, battered notebook. Perhaps notes for a student presentation? A draft letter home? A shopping list for a family dinner party?
“I’ve covered everything. There are about 120 photos, including inside the fridge and under the sink.”
The girl paused. She nibbled on her stick biro as she gathered her thoughts. The glitter in her white nail varnish twinkled as her hand caught the light.
“I converted them all to black and white to give them a documentary authenticity.”
After a few seconds contemplation she continued to write, and then, moments later, she was finished. She slapped the notebook shut, dropping her keys on top with an abrupt finality.
“I’m hoping to exhibit a selection of images from ‘Flat Broke’ in the photo society end of year show.”
The girl stood up, gathered her notebook and keys and walked out into the cold November morning. I was thinking it strange that she didn’t have a coat when I noticed the Marks & Spencer carrier bag on the floor by her chair.
“She’s left her bag – back in a min” I said to Tom. In my haste I jolted the table. Tom’s coffee spilled into his saucer.
“Shit - sorry”. I didn’t have time for lengthy apology as I scooped up her bag and hurried to the door.
And that’s how it all started. The events that followed would stay with me for the rest of my life.
to be continued (maybe)
Monday 24 November 2014
Monday 17 November 2014
Start Writing Fiction - week 2 (finding a voice)
Explore the following ideas for how to get started with a story and also how you might approach editing the story.
(Emma said that) She was furious. Eight minutes to get to the station and the stupid man on the checkout was chatting about last night's 'I'm a Celebrity ...' to the elderly lady who was very carefully packing her groceries. Finally, she extracted a purse from the depths of an enormous handbag and slowly counted out the exact amount, pausing to continue the discussion of last night's hilarity in the Australian bush. It was an unfortunate moment for the till roll to run out.
- Immediately, without thinking where it might lead, write approximately three lines that follow on from the phrase ‘Emma said that …’
- When you’ve finished, cut ‘Emma said that’. Notice how little has been lost: you’re still left with whatever Emma said.
(Emma said that) She was furious. Eight minutes to get to the station and the stupid man on the checkout was chatting about last night's 'I'm a Celebrity ...' to the elderly lady who was very carefully packing her groceries. Finally, she extracted a purse from the depths of an enormous handbag and slowly counted out the exact amount, pausing to continue the discussion of last night's hilarity in the Australian bush. It was an unfortunate moment for the till roll to run out.
Start Writing Fiction - week 2 (imagining writing spaces)
Trying to picture the worst place for you to try to write can help you realise what your best venue might be. Imagine two different venues for writing – one that seems
most suited to you, and one that you would find bizarre or too
difficult. Write a paragraph describing two writers at work, one in each
of the venues.
Tom was exasperated. The excited chattering of the kids, the distracting radio, and his inability to write legibly as the pen took its own unpredictable route across the page whenever the brake was applied or at any deviation from the straight line, all conspired to prevent the emergence of his creative ideas. There may well be a magnum opus in his head but the two hour car journey to Brighton wasn’t going to be the occasion for coaxing out the first chapter.
The background music somehow helped Tom lose himself in his own thoughts. His carefully chosen playlist had reached Albinoni’s Adagio in G Minor. The sky was turning gold as the sun dropped low on the horizon and the waves broke gently upon the shores of his Hebridean retreat. He quickly jotted down the outline to Chapter 3 and checked his notes. In that moment he knew exactly where he was taking his story.
Tom was exasperated. The excited chattering of the kids, the distracting radio, and his inability to write legibly as the pen took its own unpredictable route across the page whenever the brake was applied or at any deviation from the straight line, all conspired to prevent the emergence of his creative ideas. There may well be a magnum opus in his head but the two hour car journey to Brighton wasn’t going to be the occasion for coaxing out the first chapter.
The background music somehow helped Tom lose himself in his own thoughts. His carefully chosen playlist had reached Albinoni’s Adagio in G Minor. The sky was turning gold as the sun dropped low on the horizon and the waves broke gently upon the shores of his Hebridean retreat. He quickly jotted down the outline to Chapter 3 and checked his notes. In that moment he knew exactly where he was taking his story.
Friday 14 November 2014
Start Writing Fiction - week 1 (character study)
Write a short character sketch – no more than 200 words – in which you
concentrate on appearance and any particular mannerisms you noted.
From beneath the neat, narrow brimmed, grey trilby smiled a handsome face with kind eyes which betrayed a weariness, suggesting that life had not been easy. His dark, weathered complexion indicated eastern European origin. Two days without shaving had resulted in a thin covering of white stubble that seemed to glow in the sunlight. His grey, pinstripe jacket, worn over a diamond pattern woollen cardigan, had once been half of a smart suit. When he jammed the violin against his chin, the full picture of gypsy folk musician was complete. The music he played may well have been a Romanian traditional dance.
I dropped a pound into his violin case and showed him my camera – asking with my eyes and facial expression if I could take his photo. He understood immediately and, still smiling, nodded his permission without losing any timing.
From beneath the neat, narrow brimmed, grey trilby smiled a handsome face with kind eyes which betrayed a weariness, suggesting that life had not been easy. His dark, weathered complexion indicated eastern European origin. Two days without shaving had resulted in a thin covering of white stubble that seemed to glow in the sunlight. His grey, pinstripe jacket, worn over a diamond pattern woollen cardigan, had once been half of a smart suit. When he jammed the violin against his chin, the full picture of gypsy folk musician was complete. The music he played may well have been a Romanian traditional dance.
I dropped a pound into his violin case and showed him my camera – asking with my eyes and facial expression if I could take his photo. He understood immediately and, still smiling, nodded his permission without losing any timing.
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