Writing Challenge

[scheherazade_79]

I thought it was about time we had one in the AH, so here it is. The whole point of it is to get you to write a first person narrative in a voice that you wouldn't normally use.

Instructions
1. PM me with your choices from each of the categories.
2. I'll PM you back as soon as possible with the implications of your choices.
3. You then write a diary entry for your character. You get to choose whether they're male or female and how old they are - but the standard rules of Lit apply, and they have to be over 18.
4. Post your diary entry up on this thread when you're done. Diary entries can be as long or as short as you like. Feel free to throw ideas around on this thread if you're stuck.

* The reason I want to do this by PMs is that I don't want people to guess what certain choices mean. There has to be an element of the unknown to it, otherwise it loses half its fun.

The Categories

Choose one from each of the following lists:

Settings: Tiger, Raven, Eagle, Okapi, Wolf, Rat, Monkey, Fox, Ant, Sloth
Challenging Situation: Moscow, New York, London, Calcutta, Miami, Berlin, Amsterdam, Rome, Paris, Sydney
Dirty Little Secret: January, February, March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October
Lucky Dip: Diamonds, Hearts, Clubs, Spades


And don't forget to PM me with your choices!

 

[Aurora Black]

Maybe this will give me the kick in the ass I need to finish tweaking my own piece.

 

[scheherazade_79]

Maybe this will give me the kick in the ass I need to finish tweaking my own piece.

Keeping my fingers crossed for you, Aurora.

Based on your choices, here are the significant features of your diary entry.

Somewhere in your character's day, a church played a significant role.
Your character is pregnant
Your character has a drug habit that they keep secret from other people.

Good luck!

 

[Aurora Black]

Keeping my fingers crossed for you, Aurora.

Based on your choices, here are the significant features of your diary entry.

Somewhere in your character's day, a church played a significant role.
Your character is pregnant
Your character has a drug habit that they keep secret from other people.

Good luck!

Pregnant with a drug habit?

I'll do it, but it won't be pretty.

 

[TheeGoatPig]

I thought it was about time we had one in the AH, so here it is. The whole point of it is to get you to write a first person narrative in a voice that you wouldn't normally use.

Is that like a man writing from a woman's prespective? I do that all of the time. I find it sexier from her point of view sometimes.

 

[scheherazade_79]

I'll do it, but it won't be pretty.

I like your attitude

Not being pretty's the whole point. Figure out a way of making your character appealing even though their life situation isn't all that appealing.

I'll admit, though - you do have particularly unpretty one.

 

[scheherazade_79]

Is that like a man writing from a woman's prespective? I do that all of the time. I find it sexier from her point of view sometimes.

Kind of, but even when you write from the perspective of the opposite sex, there's a tendency to make characters too perfect.

PM me and give it a try

 

[scheherazade_79]

SummerMorning,

Your options mean that:

* a prison played a significant role in your character's day
* the action takes place in Autumn
* your character is paranoid
* your character is still a virgin

 

[scheherazade_79]

Ted-E-Bare,

Your options mean that

* A prison played a significant role in your character's day
* the action takes place in winter
* Your character is someone who suffers from crippling shyness
* Your character is a kleptomaniac

 

[TheeGoatPig]

Kind of, but even when you write from the perspective of the opposite sex, there's a tendency to make characters too perfect.

PM me and give it a try

I'd love to, but I haven't written anything in weeks, and the chances of me finishing anything in the next month or two are slim indeed.

 

[Aurora Black]

During which season does mine take place?

 

[scheherazade_79]

For EL

* an old folks' home played a significant part in your character's day
* it's summer time
* your character has unresolved homosexual feelings
* your character has only months to live, but hasn't told a single person

 

[scheherazade_79]

Which season does mine have?

Sorry, Aurora

It's winter

 

[scheherazade_79]

I'd love to, but I haven't written anything in weeks, and the chances of me finishing anything in the next month or two are slim indeed.

Chicken! Break the mould with this piece. It needn't be more than a paragraph.

 

[Aurora Black]

Sorry, Aurora

It's winter

Okay, it fits with the subject matter.

 

[3113]

SummerMorning,

Your options mean that:

* a prison played a significant role in your character's day
* the action takes place in Autumn
* your character is paranoid
* your character is still a virgin

I can't wait to see how SM is going to explain how the person was in prison but is still a virgin....

 

[English Lady]

For EL

* an old folks' home played a significant part in your character's day
* it's summer time
* your character has unresolved homosexual feelings
* your character has only months to live, but hasn't told a single person

ooooookay -this is going to be a challenge and a half!

 

[scheherazade_79]

3113

You chose...

* A night club played a significant part in your character's day.
* The action takes place in spring
* Your character is pregnant
* Your character once served time in prison for manslaughter

 

[scheherazade_79]

Yui

1. The action takes place in summer
2. A classy casino plays a significant role in your character's day
3. Your character is blind
4. Your character secretly wants to fuck every woman they come across

 

[scheherazade_79]

Remec


1. The action takes place in Autumn
2. Your character is cheating on their partner
3. Your character suffers from claustrophobia
4. The action takes place on an aeroplane

 

[3113]

Okay. If I understand this, I have to use the following items in my "diary" entry.

* A night club played a significant part in your character's day.
* The action takes place in spring
* Your character is pregnant
* Your character once served time in prison for manslaughter

No sex need be involved, but the character needs to be 18. And I'm to post the entry here, yes?

Here it is then:

Title: The Swallows in Spring

Went back to the scene of the crime tonight, just like I promised myself I would. No drinking because of my “condition,” which sucks. I could have really used a bracer, but I’m determined to bring this kid to term.

I probably killed the damn fetus anyway just by walking in. It’s not like anyone respects the smoking ban in that place. Stepping through that red door was like entering into a smog bank. I probably inhaled a pack on secondhand.

I can’t believe it’s been four years since I fired that gun. Everything’s changed, of course. Or maybe it’s just because I never used to go there cold sober. Everything looked shabbier than I remembered. Stains on the velvet seats, and most of the cushions are threadbare. There are scrapes and gouges on the glossy tabletops and one of the mirrors is cracked.

Were those gold frames always so gaudy and cheap looking?

Smells like shit, too. Like ashes. The bathroom. Yeah, I went in there. There was the dressing table where ladies use to snort up their coke inbetween adjusing breasts in push-ups and retouching their make-up. That third stall there, that’s where I cried my eyes out. That’s where I pulled out the gun. I wonder what would have happened if I’d put the pistol to my temple like I’d intended instead of wobbling out and waving it around. Screaming like a lunatic.

One asshole would still be alive. And yeah. I went to the backdoor and pushed it open for a look at the alley. Don’t know why. It’s not like anything back there would have changed. Not as stinky after spring rains, but still reeks of garbage, still glitters with broken glass. God. It kills me to think how many times I blew that fucker out there. Right there, kneeling on the cigarette butts. I should have charged him for all the stockings I ruined. And the cum stains on my dresses.

The worst thing was that when I looked out there, smelled that stink, I felt his hands on my head. I swear I did. Those thick fingers of his tangled in my hair, his rough voice telling me he loved me.

The bartender they’ve got now is a skinny old fuck. I guess the new owners didn’t want to take chances. No way that decrepid bastard's going to dazzle any ladies, not with his liver spots and bald head. Not even a stupid, drunk cunt could possibly fall for him.

I had a club soda and sat at the bar for a while. Replayed what little I remember from that night. The loud bang. The blood. I remember that. It was like an oil spill, dark and spreading fast across the floor.

No stain or sign of it now.

There was one surprise. Karl. He didn’t see me, but there he was at the piano making his music for people to dance to. He’s got more lines on the face and gray in his hair, but he’s still one talented son-of-bitch.

I didn’t say hello to him. If I had, I would have ended up telling him about my condition, about my decision to keep it. I would have had to tell him why I never wrote back to him. All those bleak, boring hours in that cell, and his were the only letters I ever got. I should have written back.

I stayed till he finished his set. It was good to hear his music again. It brought back better memories and made the place look a little less shabby. A little more like the way I remembered it, full of laughter and excitement and glitz. I left when he went on break.

So, it was hard. But I did it, just like I said I would. I went back. And maybe I’ll do it again next spring, like those swallows who return to that Monastery. Back to the scene of the crime.

I wonder, if I come back next spring…will Karl still be there?

[/end]

 

[scheherazade_79]

Absolutely loved it, 3113

I thought your descriptions were terrific, and I loved the way you gave just enough information, while leaving enough questions unanswered. Your character was totally intriguing, which was exactly the kind of result I hoped to get from this challenge - nowhere near snow white, but you want to get into her world just the same.

I'm really impressed

 

[Aurora Black]

Darn, beaten by an hour. Oh, well.

A Cry for Help

January 22, 1899

The flat is especially drafty to-day, and I am very cold. I am down to my last candle, and I cannot purchase more for a while yet. This space is now barren and lifeless without its furnishings, which I have sold to raise funds for Alan's burial.

It has been nearly two months since my husband's death. I still awaken each morning and reach across the bed to pull him to me, and I find myself alone. His side is empty; it will never be filled again, and neither will my heart. He will never know of the life we created together just before he left this world, will never see it come to fruition. Will I see it, I wonder? I hardly know. I am lost.

Beside the desk where I now sit - where Alan used to write - the empty bottle of laudanum taunts me with its presence. Against the paper, my hands - which were once young and fresh - now resemble those of an old woman. I can barely hold the quill steady; my hands tremble as if I were afflicted with an ague. Perhaps I am. I am well aware that I am ill, ensnared by the gossamer web of the opiate! Consumed by the flames that threaten to harm my unborn child and damn my soul to eternal Hell!

This morning I went to St. Michael's for Sunday Mass, and I felt as if I were trespassing upon the sacred ground. I shivered in the pew during the sermon, averting my eyes whenever another parishioner happened to glance at me.

Do they know, I asked myself. The air inside the small chapel suffocated me. My soul ached to scream for help, to throw myself on the mercy of God and admit to my present lunacy. I considered confessing to the priest after Mass. Perhaps he knows someone who could relieve me of my burden. A doctor to cure me, to save my child.

Help me, please set me free from this prison! These were the words that echoed in my poisoned mind, replacing the words from the Scriptures that were being read to us all by the man in the pulpit. I must fight! I must...

I fainted, and a gentleman escorted me out into the wintry air. Immediately upon recognizing the icy touch of the wind on my face, I protested, insisting that I return to the sermon. The man was well-dressed and fair of face, and his smile was genuine as he offered to hire a hack to take me home. His voice was very pleasant.

Despite his friendly countenance, I saw him as an obstacle to my plans. Once more I attempted to regain entrance into the church, but my body could not handle the strain. The world tilted on its axis one moment, and the next found me in his arms. For a moment, I had no will to move. May Alan forgive me, but I could not help but notice the beguiling shades of green and blue in the stranger's eyes.

Quickly recovering my senses, I pulled away from the most unorthodox position. Scandalous! If someone were to have discovered us, I know not how my reputation would have survived. Along with my abhorrent laudanum habit, I would have also been exposed to one and all as an adulterer. I deemed it wise to return home and discreetly seek out medical help another day.

Without another word, I allowed the gentleman to signal for a hack. I climbed inside, determined not to look at him again. He spoke to me, and I proved myself a liar by regarding him. He offered me his card, and I accepted it.

"I am at your service, Madam." Then he tipped his hat to me and was gone.

The card sits beside this journal, and it is quite elegant indeed. The design and the flowing script of the printed letters is a sight to behold. His name is Nathaniel Billings, but the card offers no other information.

Who is this man? What does he want from me? Why does he stir emotions inside me that had previously died along with my dear husband?

I shall close this journal now; the hour grows late, and I must take my rest. My path to absolution must wait until to-morrow, and my calling upon this man Billings must wait for ever.

 

[TheeGoatPig]

Chicken! Break the mould with this piece. It needn't be more than a paragraph.

Yes! And Lazy as well

 

[3113]

I shall close this journal now; the hour grows late, and I must take my rest. My path to absolution must wait until to-morrow, and my calling upon this man Billings must wait for ever.

Oooo. I love this, Aurora! Of course you need that extra hour--you had to go back in time to write this. Lovely. Very much in the style of some Victorian/Edwardian European journal entry.

So, are you going to continue it?