Even though the bedroom door was closed, I could hear my housemates’ conversation. It grated on my nerves, my ears aching with each syllable. I had to kill them all. Or drink their coffee.
“Did you like it?” Jenna, so hopeful. I groaned.
“Not at all.” Thomas, so insensitive. Or dense - he probably didn’t know Jenna had been fretting over whether he’d like his birthday party for nearly a month.
“Really? I thought it was at least halfway decent.” And Matthew, too lighthearted for his own good, and naive enough to think he could hide from me, his own sister, the fact that he was in love with my best friend.
“Halfway decent? That’s not really flattering,” Jenna said.
I winced. I knew that tone - hurt.
Matthew was just as dense as Thomas. “Were you asking for flattery? Because last night you insisted on a whole lot of honesty --”
“I wasn’t talking about last night, and you know it!” That sounded better. Amused.
Thomas wouldn’t be amused, though. I heaved myself out of bed, dragged on my bathrobe, and stumbled into the kitchen. Being so suddenly upright upset my equilibrium, and I felt the urge to puke.
“Now, now, children,” Thomas said, paternal and condescending. Time to defuse a bomb.
“Don’t even start with the children. Please. Not this morning. I never want to see another human being under the age of fourteen for the rest of my life.” I made more of it than it was, being hung over. I rested my head in my arms and wished I’d stayed in bed.
Thomas’s riposte was unsympathetic. “Don’t you teach first grade?”
Matthew prodded me in the shoulder. “A little hung over, are we?” His voice was light, teasing.
I opened an eye and glared at him. I was the older one and the better fighter by far. “Not so hung over I can’t pound you into the ground.”
“I’d like to see that.” Matthew puffed out his chest, but darted a glance at Jenna. He was grandstanding to keep her cheered up.
I glared again and closed my eye. I needed sleep.
Matthew’s tactic worked, at least, for Jenna sounded cheerful when she said, “So would I.”
(369 words)
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Friday, February 6, 2009
Third Person Limited: David
David stared out the rain streaked windshield of his old Camero, lost in thought. He was another year older today. Not that anyone would know it.
He was parked near a cemetery, nobody was around. He was almost tempted to just go to sleep here, just to avoid thinking about what his life had lead him to. He was not usually so morose. This was his life, it was what he was, and who he was, but at times he grew tired of it. He grew tired at times of the lies, of the deaths, of starting again and again, of everything. Then he would remember why he was doing this. A face would float into his minds eye. A sweet little girl, just a child, cold and lifeless in his arms.
He knew that Steve would look after the others, he was dependable. David almost cracked a smile at the thought of Steve looking after the twins and young Joe, almost.
Sighing, David turned the ignition and the car roared to life. David liked the sound of his car, it was throaty and deep, a reassuring rumble. He pulled away from the curb, leaving the dead behind him, like he so often did. "At least none of these were by my hand." He thought as he drove a winding path back to the safe house.
Pulling up the the house, all was dark. David assumed that his men were asleep as they should be. He climbed out of his car and walked up the short path to the door and unlocked it. He was almost startled to see Joe standing in the hallway.
"What is going on Joe? Why are you not in your bunk?" David asked. He was almost to tired to care why.
"They told me to tell you that they were going out to the club. They were just going to leave a note, but Steve put me on disciplinary, so I had to stay." Joe's voice had a pout to it.
"I don't care, you should have stopped them. Do you have any idea how much this could jeopardize..." David opened the door and flicked on the light switch.
"Surprise!, Happy Birthday!, Happy Birthday!" His men shouted at him.
David's felt his eyes widen in surprise. He didn't know how they knew. He was almost speechless. David blinked, suppressing any visible emotion.
"Well boss, make a wish and blow out the candles." Steve said from beside his commander.
David leaned in, drawing in a breath. He paused for a moment and then blew out all the candles.
"Thank you Steve." David said to his second
"Your welcome boss. What did you wish for?"
"You know I can't tell you that." David said with a smile.
Behind them Joe, Mark, and Brian were busy hosing each other down with silly string.
(I know that this is a shift in Scene. I should have planned it better, but I realized only Steve stayed put, the others all left, so to do another character would necessitate a change. (around 470 words))
He was parked near a cemetery, nobody was around. He was almost tempted to just go to sleep here, just to avoid thinking about what his life had lead him to. He was not usually so morose. This was his life, it was what he was, and who he was, but at times he grew tired of it. He grew tired at times of the lies, of the deaths, of starting again and again, of everything. Then he would remember why he was doing this. A face would float into his minds eye. A sweet little girl, just a child, cold and lifeless in his arms.
He knew that Steve would look after the others, he was dependable. David almost cracked a smile at the thought of Steve looking after the twins and young Joe, almost.
Sighing, David turned the ignition and the car roared to life. David liked the sound of his car, it was throaty and deep, a reassuring rumble. He pulled away from the curb, leaving the dead behind him, like he so often did. "At least none of these were by my hand." He thought as he drove a winding path back to the safe house.
Pulling up the the house, all was dark. David assumed that his men were asleep as they should be. He climbed out of his car and walked up the short path to the door and unlocked it. He was almost startled to see Joe standing in the hallway.
"What is going on Joe? Why are you not in your bunk?" David asked. He was almost to tired to care why.
"They told me to tell you that they were going out to the club. They were just going to leave a note, but Steve put me on disciplinary, so I had to stay." Joe's voice had a pout to it.
"I don't care, you should have stopped them. Do you have any idea how much this could jeopardize..." David opened the door and flicked on the light switch.
"Surprise!, Happy Birthday!, Happy Birthday!" His men shouted at him.
David's felt his eyes widen in surprise. He didn't know how they knew. He was almost speechless. David blinked, suppressing any visible emotion.
"Well boss, make a wish and blow out the candles." Steve said from beside his commander.
David leaned in, drawing in a breath. He paused for a moment and then blew out all the candles.
"Thank you Steve." David said to his second
"Your welcome boss. What did you wish for?"
"You know I can't tell you that." David said with a smile.
Behind them Joe, Mark, and Brian were busy hosing each other down with silly string.
(I know that this is a shift in Scene. I should have planned it better, but I realized only Steve stayed put, the others all left, so to do another character would necessitate a change. (around 470 words))
Thursday, February 5, 2009
Third Person Limited: Thomas
Jenna’s voice interrupted Thomas’s perusal of the business section of the Journal. “Did you like it?”
She knew how much he hated being interrupted during his time with the paper. “Not at all.”
“Really? I thought it was at least halfway decent.” Matthew chimed in, and Thomas realized that whatever Jenna had been asking about, it wasn’t the morning paper. Or the stocks. Or anything. Especially since his stocks had gone down.
“Halfway decent? That’s not really flattering.” Jenna’s tone was hurt, vaguely, but sometimes she was oversensitive. She got it from their mother.
“Were you asking for flattery? Because last night you insisted on a whole lot of honesty --” Matthew began.
Jenna interrupted him with a flurry of cloth. “I wasn’t talking about last night, and you know it!”
Thomas glanced up in time to see Matthew snatch a tea towel from mid-air. Thomas resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Jenna did like to use cooking implements as projectile weapons. It was incredibly juvenile.
“Did I really? Because all I heard was a question, ‘did you like it?’ And judging by your tone, you wanted honesty --” Matthew’s sudden trepidation was confusing, and Thomas wished he’d just pretended he hadn’t heard Jenna at all.
“Now, now, children,” Thomas said in his best imitation of Father. It had never failed to work on him.
“Don’t even start with the children. Please. Not this morning. I never want to see another human being under the age of fourteen for the rest of my life.” Gina sounded ill.
Thomas lifted his head and studied her. Her usually flawless pale skin was shadowed, dark bruises around her eyes. Then he registered her comment. She was complaining about children? It was entirely counterintuitive.
“Don’t you teach first grade?”
Matthew teased her. “A little hung over, are we?”
Gina growled. “Not so hung over I can’t pound you into the ground.”
“I’d like to see that.” And there was Matthew’s false bravado. His years as the class clown hadn’t taught him a thing.
Jenna seemed to think he was entertaining and egged him on with a, “So would I.”
(355 words)
She knew how much he hated being interrupted during his time with the paper. “Not at all.”
“Really? I thought it was at least halfway decent.” Matthew chimed in, and Thomas realized that whatever Jenna had been asking about, it wasn’t the morning paper. Or the stocks. Or anything. Especially since his stocks had gone down.
“Halfway decent? That’s not really flattering.” Jenna’s tone was hurt, vaguely, but sometimes she was oversensitive. She got it from their mother.
“Were you asking for flattery? Because last night you insisted on a whole lot of honesty --” Matthew began.
Jenna interrupted him with a flurry of cloth. “I wasn’t talking about last night, and you know it!”
Thomas glanced up in time to see Matthew snatch a tea towel from mid-air. Thomas resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Jenna did like to use cooking implements as projectile weapons. It was incredibly juvenile.
“Did I really? Because all I heard was a question, ‘did you like it?’ And judging by your tone, you wanted honesty --” Matthew’s sudden trepidation was confusing, and Thomas wished he’d just pretended he hadn’t heard Jenna at all.
“Now, now, children,” Thomas said in his best imitation of Father. It had never failed to work on him.
“Don’t even start with the children. Please. Not this morning. I never want to see another human being under the age of fourteen for the rest of my life.” Gina sounded ill.
Thomas lifted his head and studied her. Her usually flawless pale skin was shadowed, dark bruises around her eyes. Then he registered her comment. She was complaining about children? It was entirely counterintuitive.
“Don’t you teach first grade?”
Matthew teased her. “A little hung over, are we?”
Gina growled. “Not so hung over I can’t pound you into the ground.”
“I’d like to see that.” And there was Matthew’s false bravado. His years as the class clown hadn’t taught him a thing.
Jenna seemed to think he was entertaining and egged him on with a, “So would I.”
(355 words)
Second Person: Steve
"You take point Joe," you order as we laid out our plans, you look pointedly at Joe, almost daring him to argue.
"Why me?" Joe asked petulantly. He dared, and you had to fight back your frustration.
"Because you are the best at spinning a line of bull. Plus, I told you to," you replied, staring down the younger man. Joe could get whiny. Being the youngest on the team, You rolled your eyes at his antics. But you know that Joe is a good man, a great soldier, and an even better friend.
Joe was sullen and the twins were not helping, you want to head slap them, but you know it wouldn't do any good. You turn to look at the others.
"Brian and Mark, you two are responsible for acquisition and deployment." you said made motions to the schematic that was stretched out on the table.
You can almost see the thoughts darting through their minds.
"What will you be doing?" Joe asked, resigned to his position.
"I will be running the op from here. Someone needs to make sure it goes smoothly." You rolled up the plans as you spoke. "Alright men," you continued in an official voice, "We have a go. Meet back here at 17:30. Full deployment by 19:00."
You sit back as the others darted off to accomplish their tasks. Good men, you mused.
You thought back to your beginnings, the training, the long hours, the forced trust that springs up between men who watch your back.
You shook your head, standing up. You are glad that you had a domestic motheras you move to fulfill your roll in the op. Grabbing the blank cake you set to decorating it as the others periodically checked in with you. You were just putting the candles on the cake after decorating it with a picture of the Camero when Brian and mark returned.
You look up and see them carrying a black duffel bag between them that bulged with items. They looked extremely pleased. "We've got it!" Mark said. "Yeah, everything," Brian added.
"Excellent. You know what to do."
You only pay passing attention to what Brian and Mark are doing. You can hear them tousling in the background. After they are finished you reach over and flicked off the light, throwing the room into darkness. You can hear Joe faintly in the hallway.
"They told me to tell you that they were going out to the club. They were just going to leave a note, but Steve put me on disciplinary, so I had to stay." Joe's voice had a pout to it. You flinched slightly at the tone in your commanders voice as he drew near.
"I don't care, you should have stopped them. Do you have any idea how much this could jeopardize..." David opened the door and flicked on the light switch.
"Surprise!" You yelled.
"Happy Birthday!" the rest of the team chorused.
You watch as David's eyes widened in surprise and see the slight emotion in his otherwise still face. You can see what it means to him.
"Well boss, make a wish and blow out the candles." you said from beside your commander.
David leaned in, drawing in a breath. He paused for a moment and then blew out all the candles.
"Thank you Steve."
"Your welcome boss. What did you wish for?"
"You know I can't tell you that." David said with a smile.
Behind them Joe, Mark, and Brian were busy hosing each other down with silly string.
(I have never written second person in my life so this will probably really suck. But it was interesting all the same. Let me know how I can make it better. I brought my word count back down again.) ;)
"Why me?" Joe asked petulantly. He dared, and you had to fight back your frustration.
"Because you are the best at spinning a line of bull. Plus, I told you to," you replied, staring down the younger man. Joe could get whiny. Being the youngest on the team, You rolled your eyes at his antics. But you know that Joe is a good man, a great soldier, and an even better friend.
Joe was sullen and the twins were not helping, you want to head slap them, but you know it wouldn't do any good. You turn to look at the others.
"Brian and Mark, you two are responsible for acquisition and deployment." you said made motions to the schematic that was stretched out on the table.
You can almost see the thoughts darting through their minds.
"What will you be doing?" Joe asked, resigned to his position.
"I will be running the op from here. Someone needs to make sure it goes smoothly." You rolled up the plans as you spoke. "Alright men," you continued in an official voice, "We have a go. Meet back here at 17:30. Full deployment by 19:00."
You sit back as the others darted off to accomplish their tasks. Good men, you mused.
You thought back to your beginnings, the training, the long hours, the forced trust that springs up between men who watch your back.
You shook your head, standing up. You are glad that you had a domestic motheras you move to fulfill your roll in the op. Grabbing the blank cake you set to decorating it as the others periodically checked in with you. You were just putting the candles on the cake after decorating it with a picture of the Camero when Brian and mark returned.
You look up and see them carrying a black duffel bag between them that bulged with items. They looked extremely pleased. "We've got it!" Mark said. "Yeah, everything," Brian added.
"Excellent. You know what to do."
You only pay passing attention to what Brian and Mark are doing. You can hear them tousling in the background. After they are finished you reach over and flicked off the light, throwing the room into darkness. You can hear Joe faintly in the hallway.
"They told me to tell you that they were going out to the club. They were just going to leave a note, but Steve put me on disciplinary, so I had to stay." Joe's voice had a pout to it. You flinched slightly at the tone in your commanders voice as he drew near.
"I don't care, you should have stopped them. Do you have any idea how much this could jeopardize..." David opened the door and flicked on the light switch.
"Surprise!" You yelled.
"Happy Birthday!" the rest of the team chorused.
You watch as David's eyes widened in surprise and see the slight emotion in his otherwise still face. You can see what it means to him.
"Well boss, make a wish and blow out the candles." you said from beside your commander.
David leaned in, drawing in a breath. He paused for a moment and then blew out all the candles.
"Thank you Steve."
"Your welcome boss. What did you wish for?"
"You know I can't tell you that." David said with a smile.
Behind them Joe, Mark, and Brian were busy hosing each other down with silly string.
(I have never written second person in my life so this will probably really suck. But it was interesting all the same. Let me know how I can make it better. I brought my word count back down again.) ;)
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Second Person: Jenna
You ask, “Did you like it?” He never looks at you, but then neither did Father, and you’ve accepted your pathetic need for approval.
Your brother says, “Not at all,” and it stings.
Your fingers twitch for a the nearest cooking-worthy weapon.
“Really? I thought it was at least halfway decent.” Your boyfriend is hardly any help.
“Halfway decent?” You manage to keep the hurt out of your voice, keep drying the dishes. “That’s not really flattering.”
“Were you asking for flattery? Because last night you insisted on a whole lot of honesty --” Your boyfriend goes on the defensive, wicked, mischievous.
It does the trick. You smile. “I wasn’t talking about last night, and you know it!” You fling the tea-towel at him, but he catches it mid-air, damn his reflexes. He has amazing hands - you learned that last night on the couch, mid-kisses, but you’ll never tell your brother.
“Did I really? Because all I heard was a question, ‘did you like it?’ And judging by your tone, you wanted honesty --” Your boyfriend looks at your brother, and you can sense the anxiety, the fear in him of one finds out that the other has been up to.
Your brother’s “Now, now, children” is obnoxiously reminiscent of your father, and you wish he’d look away from the newspaper at least once this morning.
“Don’t even start with the children. Please. Not this morning.” Your best friend looks ill and tired, but it’s all her own fault. “I never want to see another human being under the age of fourteen for the rest of my life.”
If she weren’t so pretty and popular she’d be easier to like, sometimes, because your brother actually looks at her.
“Don’t you teach first grade?” Your brother hardly sounds sympathetic, but it means something, that he actually knows what her occupation his.
Your boyfriend - her brother - is genuinely unsympathetic. “A little hung over, are we?” Still, she is your friend, and you glare at him in her defense.
“Not so hung over I can’t pound you into the ground.” You know that sound, and a bruising is sure to follow.
“I’d like to see that.” Your boyfriend plays the macho bravo, but you know they all know who’d win.
Still, you love him and his antics, because he has a brave heart. You say, “So would I.”
(397 words)
Your brother says, “Not at all,” and it stings.
Your fingers twitch for a the nearest cooking-worthy weapon.
“Really? I thought it was at least halfway decent.” Your boyfriend is hardly any help.
“Halfway decent?” You manage to keep the hurt out of your voice, keep drying the dishes. “That’s not really flattering.”
“Were you asking for flattery? Because last night you insisted on a whole lot of honesty --” Your boyfriend goes on the defensive, wicked, mischievous.
It does the trick. You smile. “I wasn’t talking about last night, and you know it!” You fling the tea-towel at him, but he catches it mid-air, damn his reflexes. He has amazing hands - you learned that last night on the couch, mid-kisses, but you’ll never tell your brother.
“Did I really? Because all I heard was a question, ‘did you like it?’ And judging by your tone, you wanted honesty --” Your boyfriend looks at your brother, and you can sense the anxiety, the fear in him of one finds out that the other has been up to.
Your brother’s “Now, now, children” is obnoxiously reminiscent of your father, and you wish he’d look away from the newspaper at least once this morning.
“Don’t even start with the children. Please. Not this morning.” Your best friend looks ill and tired, but it’s all her own fault. “I never want to see another human being under the age of fourteen for the rest of my life.”
If she weren’t so pretty and popular she’d be easier to like, sometimes, because your brother actually looks at her.
“Don’t you teach first grade?” Your brother hardly sounds sympathetic, but it means something, that he actually knows what her occupation his.
Your boyfriend - her brother - is genuinely unsympathetic. “A little hung over, are we?” Still, she is your friend, and you glare at him in her defense.
“Not so hung over I can’t pound you into the ground.” You know that sound, and a bruising is sure to follow.
“I’d like to see that.” Your boyfriend plays the macho bravo, but you know they all know who’d win.
Still, you love him and his antics, because he has a brave heart. You say, “So would I.”
(397 words)
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
First Person: Steve
"You take point Joe," I ordered as we laid out our plans, I looked pointedly at Joe, almost daring him to argue. Joe was a good man, he would do as he was told, even if he didn't like it.
"Why me?" Joe asked petulantly. I knew it would come, and so I suppressed a growl of frustration. I looked up at Joe again. "Because you are the best at spinning a line of bull. Plus, I told you to." I stared Joe down. I knew that Joe could get whiny; I was almost sure at times that he felt it was a duty to act like a child. I know Joe is a good man, a great soldier, and an even better friend.
I looked away from Joe who still looked sullen. My gaze fell on the other two members of the team. Mark and Brian were trying not to laugh. I rolled my eyes and fought back an urge to head slap them. I knew it wouldn't do any good; it would only relieve a little irritation.
"Brian and Mark, you two are responsible for acquisition and deployment." I motioned to the schematic making sure that they understood. It was important that every op go off without a hitch; and to do that I knew it was essential that everyone knew their parts.
I could almost see the thoughts darting through Mark and Brian's minds. I could definitely see the sparkle of merriment and mischief in their eyes.
"What will you be doing?" Joe asked me; he finally sounded resigned to his position in the op.
"I will be running the op from here. Someone needs to make sure it goes smoothly." I rolled up the plans as I spoke, I knew that they would have committed it to memory by now, it was what they train to do. "Alright men," I said looking at my watch, "we have a go. Meet back here at 17:30. Full deployment by 19:00."
I sat back and watched as the others darted off to accomplish their tasks. Good men. I mused. I have never worked with better.
I thought back to how I got started, the training, the long hours, the forced trust that springs up between men who watch your back. It was a brutal life, but one that made a difference in the world. I was proud of who I was, and of what I had become.
My musing did not last long, I had work to do. I shook my head and stood up.
I am glad that I had a domestic mother, I thought to myself. I grabbed the blank cake from the counter and set to work. I stopped occasionally as the others radioed in SIT-REP. I took special care with the Camero, making sure that I matched the color and the tiny imperfections in the body of the car. It would not just be A Camero, it would be David's Camero. I was just putting the candles on the cake after finishing the car when Brian and mark returned.
I looked up from the counter where I was working and saw them carrying in a black duffel bag between them that bulged with items. They looked extremely pleased. "We've got it!" Mark said. "Yeah, everything," Brian added.
"Excellent. You know what to do." I said. I didn't bother to pay attention to what they were doing. I knew that I could count on them to do it right, even if it took them a while. I could hear them tousling in the background. I nodded when the others reported that their preparation were complete. I reached over and flicked off the lights, throwing the room into darkness. I could faintly hear Joe in the hallway, his voice muffled by the door.
"They told me to tell you that they were going out to the club. They were just going to leave a note, but Steve put me on disciplinary, so I had to stay." Joe's voice had a pout to it.
"I don't care, you should have stopped them. Do you have any idea how much this could jeopardize..." David opened the door and flicked on the light switch.
"Surprise!" I shouted.
"Happy Birthday!" The twins and Joe chorused
I watched as David's eyes widened in surprise. I knew that anyone who knew him less than his team would not see the slight emotion in his otherwise still face. The deeper breaths; the blink that meant that he was touched. I could see what it meant to him.
"Well boss, make a wish and blow out the candles." I said from beside my commander.
I watched David lean in and draw in a breath. He paused for a moment and then blew out all the candles.
"Thank you Steve."
"Your welcome boss. What did you wish for?"
"You know I can't tell you that." David said with a smile.
I smiled. Behind us, Joe, Mark, and Brian were busy hosing each other down with silly string.
"Why me?" Joe asked petulantly. I knew it would come, and so I suppressed a growl of frustration. I looked up at Joe again. "Because you are the best at spinning a line of bull. Plus, I told you to." I stared Joe down. I knew that Joe could get whiny; I was almost sure at times that he felt it was a duty to act like a child. I know Joe is a good man, a great soldier, and an even better friend.
I looked away from Joe who still looked sullen. My gaze fell on the other two members of the team. Mark and Brian were trying not to laugh. I rolled my eyes and fought back an urge to head slap them. I knew it wouldn't do any good; it would only relieve a little irritation.
"Brian and Mark, you two are responsible for acquisition and deployment." I motioned to the schematic making sure that they understood. It was important that every op go off without a hitch; and to do that I knew it was essential that everyone knew their parts.
I could almost see the thoughts darting through Mark and Brian's minds. I could definitely see the sparkle of merriment and mischief in their eyes.
"What will you be doing?" Joe asked me; he finally sounded resigned to his position in the op.
"I will be running the op from here. Someone needs to make sure it goes smoothly." I rolled up the plans as I spoke, I knew that they would have committed it to memory by now, it was what they train to do. "Alright men," I said looking at my watch, "we have a go. Meet back here at 17:30. Full deployment by 19:00."
I sat back and watched as the others darted off to accomplish their tasks. Good men. I mused. I have never worked with better.
I thought back to how I got started, the training, the long hours, the forced trust that springs up between men who watch your back. It was a brutal life, but one that made a difference in the world. I was proud of who I was, and of what I had become.
My musing did not last long, I had work to do. I shook my head and stood up.
I am glad that I had a domestic mother, I thought to myself. I grabbed the blank cake from the counter and set to work. I stopped occasionally as the others radioed in SIT-REP. I took special care with the Camero, making sure that I matched the color and the tiny imperfections in the body of the car. It would not just be A Camero, it would be David's Camero. I was just putting the candles on the cake after finishing the car when Brian and mark returned.
I looked up from the counter where I was working and saw them carrying in a black duffel bag between them that bulged with items. They looked extremely pleased. "We've got it!" Mark said. "Yeah, everything," Brian added.
"Excellent. You know what to do." I said. I didn't bother to pay attention to what they were doing. I knew that I could count on them to do it right, even if it took them a while. I could hear them tousling in the background. I nodded when the others reported that their preparation were complete. I reached over and flicked off the lights, throwing the room into darkness. I could faintly hear Joe in the hallway, his voice muffled by the door.
"They told me to tell you that they were going out to the club. They were just going to leave a note, but Steve put me on disciplinary, so I had to stay." Joe's voice had a pout to it.
"I don't care, you should have stopped them. Do you have any idea how much this could jeopardize..." David opened the door and flicked on the light switch.
"Surprise!" I shouted.
"Happy Birthday!" The twins and Joe chorused
I watched as David's eyes widened in surprise. I knew that anyone who knew him less than his team would not see the slight emotion in his otherwise still face. The deeper breaths; the blink that meant that he was touched. I could see what it meant to him.
"Well boss, make a wish and blow out the candles." I said from beside my commander.
I watched David lean in and draw in a breath. He paused for a moment and then blew out all the candles.
"Thank you Steve."
"Your welcome boss. What did you wish for?"
"You know I can't tell you that." David said with a smile.
I smiled. Behind us, Joe, Mark, and Brian were busy hosing each other down with silly string.
First Person: Jenna
“Did you like it?” I sneaked a glance at Thomas, but he was buried in the business section of the paper. My brother was such a square.
His next words stung. “Not at all.”
I took a deep breath to stop myself from beating him over the head with the nearest cooking implement.
Matthew was hardly any help. “Really? I thought it was at least halfway decent.”
“Halfway decent?” I supposed that was precisely the support I should expect from my not-really-boyfriend. “That’s not really flattering.”
Matthew arched an eyebrow. “Were you asking for flattery? Because last night you insisted on a whole lot of honesty --”
His eyes gleamed wickedly, and I knew immediately what he meant. “I wasn’t talking about last night, and you know it!” I flung a tea towel at him, but he caught in mid-air. Damn his reflexes. He had good hands. But there was no way I’d let him tell Thomas, my brother, that I’d been making out with his best friend last night.
“Did I really? Because all I heard was a question, ‘did you like it?’ And judging by your tone, you wanted honesty --” Matthew started, and I could see discomfort in the line of his shoulders. He was so insecure sometimes.
Then Thomas broke in with a, “Now, now, children.” He sounded so much like Father, buried in the newspaper just like Father. He had no clue what I’d asked him about. Figured.
“Don’t even start with the children. Please. Not this morning.” Gina looked pretty wrecked, but I was hardly sympathetic after her antics with the Schnapps. “I never want to see another human being under the age of fourteen for the rest of my life.”
Given how much she’d drunk the night before, I was pretty impressed that she’d made it out of bed so early. I wanted to kick her, sometimes, because even wrecked she was ten times as pretty as me.
Thomas actually looked at her instead of the paper. “Don’t you teach first grade?” He was so in love with her and didn’t even know it. What made it worse was that Gina loved him right back. I wondered how we’d ended up in this bizarre tango, Gina in love with my brother and me in love with hers and neither of them understanding a thing.
Matthew patted her shoulder. “A little hung over, are we?” I glared at him. He was about as nice to her as Thomas was to me.
“Not so hung over I can’t pound you into the ground,” Gina said. I winced; I knew that sound, and that meant danger.
“I’d like to see that.” Matthew drew himself up to his full height, which was impressive, but he was a skinny runt, and we all knew it.
I loved him anyway. I smiled and said, “So would I.”
(479 words)
His next words stung. “Not at all.”
I took a deep breath to stop myself from beating him over the head with the nearest cooking implement.
Matthew was hardly any help. “Really? I thought it was at least halfway decent.”
“Halfway decent?” I supposed that was precisely the support I should expect from my not-really-boyfriend. “That’s not really flattering.”
Matthew arched an eyebrow. “Were you asking for flattery? Because last night you insisted on a whole lot of honesty --”
His eyes gleamed wickedly, and I knew immediately what he meant. “I wasn’t talking about last night, and you know it!” I flung a tea towel at him, but he caught in mid-air. Damn his reflexes. He had good hands. But there was no way I’d let him tell Thomas, my brother, that I’d been making out with his best friend last night.
“Did I really? Because all I heard was a question, ‘did you like it?’ And judging by your tone, you wanted honesty --” Matthew started, and I could see discomfort in the line of his shoulders. He was so insecure sometimes.
Then Thomas broke in with a, “Now, now, children.” He sounded so much like Father, buried in the newspaper just like Father. He had no clue what I’d asked him about. Figured.
“Don’t even start with the children. Please. Not this morning.” Gina looked pretty wrecked, but I was hardly sympathetic after her antics with the Schnapps. “I never want to see another human being under the age of fourteen for the rest of my life.”
Given how much she’d drunk the night before, I was pretty impressed that she’d made it out of bed so early. I wanted to kick her, sometimes, because even wrecked she was ten times as pretty as me.
Thomas actually looked at her instead of the paper. “Don’t you teach first grade?” He was so in love with her and didn’t even know it. What made it worse was that Gina loved him right back. I wondered how we’d ended up in this bizarre tango, Gina in love with my brother and me in love with hers and neither of them understanding a thing.
Matthew patted her shoulder. “A little hung over, are we?” I glared at him. He was about as nice to her as Thomas was to me.
“Not so hung over I can’t pound you into the ground,” Gina said. I winced; I knew that sound, and that meant danger.
“I’d like to see that.” Matthew drew himself up to his full height, which was impressive, but he was a skinny runt, and we all knew it.
I loved him anyway. I smiled and said, “So would I.”
(479 words)
Monday, February 2, 2009
Third Person Limited: Steve
"You take point Joe," Steve ordered as they laid out their plans, HE looked pointedly at Joe, almost daring him to argue.
"Why me?" Joe asked petulantly. He dared, and Steve suppressed a growl of frustration.
"Because you are the best at spinning a line of bull. Plus, I told you to." Steve replied, staring down the younger man. Joe could get whiny. Being the youngest on the team, Steve was sure he almost felt it was a duty to act like a child at times. But he knew that Joe was a good man, a great soldier, and an even better friend.
Joe still looked sullen. The other two were trying not to laugh. Steve wanted to head slap them, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. He turned to look at the twins.
"Brian and Mark, you two are responsible for acquisition and deployment." Steve made motions to the schematic that was stretched out on the table, pointing out spots of particular interest.
Steve could almost see the thoughts darting through their minds. He could definitely see the sparkle of merriment in their eyes.
"What will you be doing?" Joe asked, resigned to his position.
"I will be running the op from here. Someone needs to make sure it goes smoothly." Steve rolled up the plans as he spoke. "Alright men," Steve continued in an official voice, "We have a go. Meet back here at 17:30. Full deployment by 19:00."
Steve sat back as the others darted off to accomplish their tasks. Good men. he mused to himself. He had never worked with better.
Steve thought back to his beginnings, the training, the long hours, the forced trust that springs up between men who watch your back.
Steve shook his head and stood up. He was so glad that he had a domestic mother, one that taught him many things. Grabbing the blank cake he set to decorating it as the others periodically checked in with him. He was just putting the candles on the cake after decorating it with a picture of the Camero when Brian and mark returned.
Steve looked up and saw them carrying a black duffel bag between them that bulged with items. They looked extremely pleased. "We've got it!" Mark said. "Yeah, everything," Brian added.
"Excellent. You know what to do."
Steve only paid passing attention to what Brian and Mark were doing. He could hear them tousling in the background. Steve reached over and flicked off the light, throwing the room into darkness, and grinned in anticipation. They could hear Joe in the hallway; Steve could hear him faintly.
"They told me to tell you that they were going out to the club. They were just going to leave a note, but Steve put me on disciplinary, so I had to stay." Joe's voice had a pout to it.
"I don't care, you should have stopped them. Do you have any idea how much this could jeopardize..." David opened the door and flicked on the light switch.
"Surprise!"
"Happy Birthday!"
Happy Birthday!"
Steve watched as David's eyes widened in surprise and saw the slight emotion in his otherwise still face. He could see what it meant to him.
"Well boss, make a wish and blow out the candles." Steve said from beside his commander.
David leaned in, drawing in a breath. He paused for a moment and then blew out all the candles.
"Thank you Steve."
"Your welcome boss. What did you wish for?"
"You know I can't tell you that." David said with a smile.
Behind them Joe, Mark, and Brian were busy hosing each other down with silly string.
(let me know if I am getting these wrong or anything that I should change, anything that I could do better.)
"Why me?" Joe asked petulantly. He dared, and Steve suppressed a growl of frustration.
"Because you are the best at spinning a line of bull. Plus, I told you to." Steve replied, staring down the younger man. Joe could get whiny. Being the youngest on the team, Steve was sure he almost felt it was a duty to act like a child at times. But he knew that Joe was a good man, a great soldier, and an even better friend.
Joe still looked sullen. The other two were trying not to laugh. Steve wanted to head slap them, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. He turned to look at the twins.
"Brian and Mark, you two are responsible for acquisition and deployment." Steve made motions to the schematic that was stretched out on the table, pointing out spots of particular interest.
Steve could almost see the thoughts darting through their minds. He could definitely see the sparkle of merriment in their eyes.
"What will you be doing?" Joe asked, resigned to his position.
"I will be running the op from here. Someone needs to make sure it goes smoothly." Steve rolled up the plans as he spoke. "Alright men," Steve continued in an official voice, "We have a go. Meet back here at 17:30. Full deployment by 19:00."
Steve sat back as the others darted off to accomplish their tasks. Good men. he mused to himself. He had never worked with better.
Steve thought back to his beginnings, the training, the long hours, the forced trust that springs up between men who watch your back.
Steve shook his head and stood up. He was so glad that he had a domestic mother, one that taught him many things. Grabbing the blank cake he set to decorating it as the others periodically checked in with him. He was just putting the candles on the cake after decorating it with a picture of the Camero when Brian and mark returned.
Steve looked up and saw them carrying a black duffel bag between them that bulged with items. They looked extremely pleased. "We've got it!" Mark said. "Yeah, everything," Brian added.
"Excellent. You know what to do."
Steve only paid passing attention to what Brian and Mark were doing. He could hear them tousling in the background. Steve reached over and flicked off the light, throwing the room into darkness, and grinned in anticipation. They could hear Joe in the hallway; Steve could hear him faintly.
"They told me to tell you that they were going out to the club. They were just going to leave a note, but Steve put me on disciplinary, so I had to stay." Joe's voice had a pout to it.
"I don't care, you should have stopped them. Do you have any idea how much this could jeopardize..." David opened the door and flicked on the light switch.
"Surprise!"
"Happy Birthday!"
Happy Birthday!"
Steve watched as David's eyes widened in surprise and saw the slight emotion in his otherwise still face. He could see what it meant to him.
"Well boss, make a wish and blow out the candles." Steve said from beside his commander.
David leaned in, drawing in a breath. He paused for a moment and then blew out all the candles.
"Thank you Steve."
"Your welcome boss. What did you wish for?"
"You know I can't tell you that." David said with a smile.
Behind them Joe, Mark, and Brian were busy hosing each other down with silly string.
(let me know if I am getting these wrong or anything that I should change, anything that I could do better.)
Third Person Limited: Jenna
“Did you like it?” Jenna asked. She sneaked a glance at Thomas, but he didn’t look up from the business section of the paper.
“Not at all,” he said. Jenna frowned, hurt. She’d worked so hard on the birthday cake she’d brought to his office yesterday, and he had said nary a word about it. Now she knew the truth.
Matthew frowned and blew on the surface of his coffee. “Really? I thought it was at least halfway decent.”
“Halfway decent?” Jenna echoed. Matthew was ambivalent about everything, but he’d seen her slave over that cake. “That’s not really flattering.”
Matthew arched an eyebrow. “Were you asking for flattery? Because last night you insisted on a whole lot of honesty --”
For a moment, Jenna was confused, but then her indignation devolved into laughter. She tossed a hand towel at Matthew, who caught it deftly from mid-air. “I wasn’t talking about last night, and you know it!” Matthew always picked up the innuendo no one else would suspect. If he started telling Thomas, her brother, about when they were making out on the couch last night, she’d kill him.
“Did I really? Because all I heard was a question, ‘did you like it?’ And judging by your tone, you wanted honesty --” Matthew’s voice took on that didactic edge it got when he felt cornered - or sarcastic.
“Now, now, children.” Thomas sounded so much like their father. Jenna resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
“Don’t even start with the children. Please. Not this morning.” Gina hauled herself into the only other empty chair at the kitchen table and slumped over, resting her head on her arms. “I never want to see another human being under the age of fourteen for the rest of my life.”
Finally, Gina was out of bed. At Thomas’s party after school, all his coworkers had brought their children, and it had somehow fallen to Gina to look after them. Once the children were gone, Gina had hit a bottle of Schnapps pretty hard.
Thomas peered at her over the top of his newspaper. “Don’t you teach first grade?”
Gina glared weakly and closed her eyes. Jenna smothered a laugh. Gina was crazy in love with Thomas and didn’t understand his near-robotic lack of emotion.
Matthew patted her shoulder. “A little hung over, are we?” His tone dripped with insincerity. He was as nice to his sister as Thomas was to his.
“Not so hung over I can’t pound you into the ground,” Gina said. The growl in her voice was a genuine threat; Jenna had heard it before.
Matthew puffed his chest out. “I’d like to see that.”
For a moment, Jenna could picture Gina chasing Matthew around the kitchen, armed with a rolling pin or another of Jenna’s baking implements. Matthew was fast, but Gina was strong. Jenna laughed. “So would I.”
(479 words)
“Not at all,” he said. Jenna frowned, hurt. She’d worked so hard on the birthday cake she’d brought to his office yesterday, and he had said nary a word about it. Now she knew the truth.
Matthew frowned and blew on the surface of his coffee. “Really? I thought it was at least halfway decent.”
“Halfway decent?” Jenna echoed. Matthew was ambivalent about everything, but he’d seen her slave over that cake. “That’s not really flattering.”
Matthew arched an eyebrow. “Were you asking for flattery? Because last night you insisted on a whole lot of honesty --”
For a moment, Jenna was confused, but then her indignation devolved into laughter. She tossed a hand towel at Matthew, who caught it deftly from mid-air. “I wasn’t talking about last night, and you know it!” Matthew always picked up the innuendo no one else would suspect. If he started telling Thomas, her brother, about when they were making out on the couch last night, she’d kill him.
“Did I really? Because all I heard was a question, ‘did you like it?’ And judging by your tone, you wanted honesty --” Matthew’s voice took on that didactic edge it got when he felt cornered - or sarcastic.
“Now, now, children.” Thomas sounded so much like their father. Jenna resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
“Don’t even start with the children. Please. Not this morning.” Gina hauled herself into the only other empty chair at the kitchen table and slumped over, resting her head on her arms. “I never want to see another human being under the age of fourteen for the rest of my life.”
Finally, Gina was out of bed. At Thomas’s party after school, all his coworkers had brought their children, and it had somehow fallen to Gina to look after them. Once the children were gone, Gina had hit a bottle of Schnapps pretty hard.
Thomas peered at her over the top of his newspaper. “Don’t you teach first grade?”
Gina glared weakly and closed her eyes. Jenna smothered a laugh. Gina was crazy in love with Thomas and didn’t understand his near-robotic lack of emotion.
Matthew patted her shoulder. “A little hung over, are we?” His tone dripped with insincerity. He was as nice to his sister as Thomas was to his.
“Not so hung over I can’t pound you into the ground,” Gina said. The growl in her voice was a genuine threat; Jenna had heard it before.
Matthew puffed his chest out. “I’d like to see that.”
For a moment, Jenna could picture Gina chasing Matthew around the kitchen, armed with a rolling pin or another of Jenna’s baking implements. Matthew was fast, but Gina was strong. Jenna laughed. “So would I.”
(479 words)
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Third person omniscient distant
"You take point Joe," Steve ordered as they laid out their plans
"Why me?" Joe asked petulantly.
"Because you are the best at spinning a line of bull. Plus, I told you to." Steve replied, staring down the younger man.
Joe still looked sullen. The other two were trying not to laugh.
"Brian and Mark, you two are responsible for acquisition and deployment." Steve made motions to the schematic that was stretched out on the table, pointing out spots of particular interest.
The twins grinned at each other, each thinking the same thing.
"What will you be doing?" Joe asked, resigned to his position.
"I will be running the op from here. Someone needs to make sure it goes smoothly." Steve rolled up the plans as he spoke. "Alright men," Steve continued in an official voice, Mark and Brian rolling their eyes behind him. "We have a go. Meet back here at 17:30. Full deployment by 19:00."
"Yes sir!" The three other men slipped away from the table, each intent on his task.
~~~~~~~~~~
Brian and Mark returned an hour later, carrying a black duffel bag between them that bulged with items. They looked extremely pleased. "We've got it!" Mark said. "Yeah, everything," Brian added.
"Excellent. You know what to do."
Mark and Brian grinned and moved about the room, placing items everywhere. Some were tossed with little regard to where they landed. Others were placed very carefully. They were finished in a short time.
Steve and the twins turned out the light just before the deadline. They could hear Joe in the hallway.
"They told me to tell you that they were going out to the club. They were just going to leave a note, but Steve put me on disciplinary, so I had to stay." Joe's voice had a pout to it.
"I don't care, you should have stopped them. Do you have any idea how much this could jeopardize..." David opened the door and flicked on the light switch.
"Surprise!"
"Happy Birthday!"
Happy Birthday!"
David stared in surprise at the sight before him. The room was strung with streamers and balloons. There was a large cake in the middle of the table that had a picture of his Camero in black icing. Twenty-seven candles glowed along the perimeter of the cake.
David swallowed back emotion. It had been a long time since anyone had acknowledged his birthday. "Thank you guys."
"Well boss, make a wish and blow out the candles."
David leaned in, drawing in a breath. He paused for a moment and then blew out all the candles.
"Thank you Steve."
"Your welcome boss. What did you wish for?"
"You know I can't tell you that." David said with a smile.
Behind them Joe, Mark, and Brian were busy hosing each other down with silly string.
(467 words)
"Why me?" Joe asked petulantly.
"Because you are the best at spinning a line of bull. Plus, I told you to." Steve replied, staring down the younger man.
Joe still looked sullen. The other two were trying not to laugh.
"Brian and Mark, you two are responsible for acquisition and deployment." Steve made motions to the schematic that was stretched out on the table, pointing out spots of particular interest.
The twins grinned at each other, each thinking the same thing.
"What will you be doing?" Joe asked, resigned to his position.
"I will be running the op from here. Someone needs to make sure it goes smoothly." Steve rolled up the plans as he spoke. "Alright men," Steve continued in an official voice, Mark and Brian rolling their eyes behind him. "We have a go. Meet back here at 17:30. Full deployment by 19:00."
"Yes sir!" The three other men slipped away from the table, each intent on his task.
~~~~~~~~~~
Brian and Mark returned an hour later, carrying a black duffel bag between them that bulged with items. They looked extremely pleased. "We've got it!" Mark said. "Yeah, everything," Brian added.
"Excellent. You know what to do."
Mark and Brian grinned and moved about the room, placing items everywhere. Some were tossed with little regard to where they landed. Others were placed very carefully. They were finished in a short time.
Steve and the twins turned out the light just before the deadline. They could hear Joe in the hallway.
"They told me to tell you that they were going out to the club. They were just going to leave a note, but Steve put me on disciplinary, so I had to stay." Joe's voice had a pout to it.
"I don't care, you should have stopped them. Do you have any idea how much this could jeopardize..." David opened the door and flicked on the light switch.
"Surprise!"
"Happy Birthday!"
Happy Birthday!"
David stared in surprise at the sight before him. The room was strung with streamers and balloons. There was a large cake in the middle of the table that had a picture of his Camero in black icing. Twenty-seven candles glowed along the perimeter of the cake.
David swallowed back emotion. It had been a long time since anyone had acknowledged his birthday. "Thank you guys."
"Well boss, make a wish and blow out the candles."
David leaned in, drawing in a breath. He paused for a moment and then blew out all the candles.
"Thank you Steve."
"Your welcome boss. What did you wish for?"
"You know I can't tell you that." David said with a smile.
Behind them Joe, Mark, and Brian were busy hosing each other down with silly string.
(467 words)
Overview #14 - The Lie
I had fun with this challange, though it was a bit tough at times. I tried not to do the same form of lie twice. I did an innocent lie, a direct lie, a life changing lie, a character that was lying to himself. A lie of omission. It was interesting to try to come up with different situations. If you really stop and think about how much we lie in general, most being harmless, we tend to tell a lot of halve truths. I did find it interesting, like Master said, that we did not do any confrontations of a person being caught in a lie. Perhaps it is because we as writers, want our lies to be believed.
Third Person Distant Omniscient
“Did you like it?” Jenna asked.
“Not at all,” Thomas said without looking up from the newspaper.
Matthew frowned and blew on the surface of his coffee in faint hopes of cooling it. “Really? I thought it was at least halfway decent.”
“Halfway decent?” Jenna echoed. “That’s not really flattering.”
Matthew arched an eyebrow. “Were you asking for flattery? Because last night you insisted on a whole lot of honesty --”
Jenna’s indignation devolved into laughter, and she tossed a hand towel at Matthew, who caught it deftly from mid-air. “I wasn’t talking about last night, and you know it!”
“Did I really? Because all I heard was a question, ‘did you like it?’ And judging by your tone, you wanted honesty --” Matthew’s voice had taken on a didactic edge.
“Now, now, children,” Thomas began.
“Don’t even start with the children. Please. Not this morning.” Gina hauled herself into the only other empty chair at the kitchen table and slumped over, resting her head on her arms. “I never want to see another human being under the age of fourteen for the rest of my life.”
Thomas peered at her over the top of his newspaper. “Don’t you teach first grade?”
Gina glared weakly and closed her eyes.
Matthew patted her shoulder with mock-sympathy. “A little hung over, are we?”
“Not so hung over I can’t pound you into the ground,” Gina said.
Matthew puffed his chest out. “I’d like to see that.”
Jenna laughed. “So would I.”
(249 words)
“Not at all,” Thomas said without looking up from the newspaper.
Matthew frowned and blew on the surface of his coffee in faint hopes of cooling it. “Really? I thought it was at least halfway decent.”
“Halfway decent?” Jenna echoed. “That’s not really flattering.”
Matthew arched an eyebrow. “Were you asking for flattery? Because last night you insisted on a whole lot of honesty --”
Jenna’s indignation devolved into laughter, and she tossed a hand towel at Matthew, who caught it deftly from mid-air. “I wasn’t talking about last night, and you know it!”
“Did I really? Because all I heard was a question, ‘did you like it?’ And judging by your tone, you wanted honesty --” Matthew’s voice had taken on a didactic edge.
“Now, now, children,” Thomas began.
“Don’t even start with the children. Please. Not this morning.” Gina hauled herself into the only other empty chair at the kitchen table and slumped over, resting her head on her arms. “I never want to see another human being under the age of fourteen for the rest of my life.”
Thomas peered at her over the top of his newspaper. “Don’t you teach first grade?”
Gina glared weakly and closed her eyes.
Matthew patted her shoulder with mock-sympathy. “A little hung over, are we?”
“Not so hung over I can’t pound you into the ground,” Gina said.
Matthew puffed his chest out. “I’d like to see that.”
Jenna laughed. “So would I.”
(249 words)
Overview #14 - the Lie
This was an interesting piece, mostly about characterization, third person limited point of view, and dialogue. At least, for me, those were the techniques I relied on most to get the lie across with as little telling as possible. The most fun lies are by far the secret agent lies, so I tried not to do too many of them. Some are lies I like to play with all the time and which would be fun to effectuate in real life; some were plot moment experiments. Overall, it is interesting to see what both of us considered a lie. The other interesting twist was noting how the lies were characterized. On the whole, there was little condemnation of lying, which was unexpected. Perhaps writers are at least as morally ambiguous as lawyers.
Project #15: POV
Here it is, that illusory trick - point of view. A cardinal rule for writing is that one should not shift point of view within scenes or within paragraphs or, heaven forbid, within sentences. Unless another character is a telepath, but don't go using that scenario this week. This week's assignment is going to be an exercise in technical skill - the opening scene should be a conversation of sorts, nothing complicated, with at least three characters. The points of view from which to write should be in the following order:
1 - third person omniscient distant (i.e. from third person but not limited to a particular character; avoid going into everyone's head)
2 - third person limited (from third person but limited to a particular character; i.e. just that character's thoughts)
3 - first person (from the point of view of "I"; same character as in the previous exercise)
4 - second person (because, as much as it's a rather obnoxious way of writing, being able to do it should teach one how to avoid it; this is from the point of view of "you"; same character from previous exercise)
5 - third person limited from a different character
6 - first person from yet another character
7 - third limited or first, your choice, from whichever characters are left
Keep it 100-500 words in length.
1 - third person omniscient distant (i.e. from third person but not limited to a particular character; avoid going into everyone's head)
2 - third person limited (from third person but limited to a particular character; i.e. just that character's thoughts)
3 - first person (from the point of view of "I"; same character as in the previous exercise)
4 - second person (because, as much as it's a rather obnoxious way of writing, being able to do it should teach one how to avoid it; this is from the point of view of "you"; same character from previous exercise)
5 - third person limited from a different character
6 - first person from yet another character
7 - third limited or first, your choice, from whichever characters are left
Keep it 100-500 words in length.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
Incognito
“What’s your name?” the girl asked.
Jesse shoved his hands into his pockets and hoped his hat covered his hair adequately. “Thom,” he said. He would answer to that in a crowd.
“Oh.” The girl’s expression was disappointed. “It’s just - you look like Jesse Carlisle.”
“Who?” he asked, and was pleased that his innocent mien was holding. He wouldn’t be much of an actor if he couldn’t keep up this one small façade.
The girl looked exasperated. “The villian from the new Angel Revelations film,” she said. She flipped her hair over her shoulder with an impatient gesture. “I suppose since you’re a boy you don’t really care, but Jesse Carlisle’s a really hot, really talented actor from England.”
Jesse blinked and tried not to let his surprise show. His managers had ranted and raved about the reviews he was getting in the press, but he’d never been confronted so brazenly by a teenage girl’s opinion. “Oh. I’m sure he’d be, er, really flattered to hear you say that.”
“You really look like him,” the girl said again, and peered closer.
He backed up a step. “I guess that’s a compliment, then,” he said cautiously.
The girl studied his face a moment longer, then sighed and stepped back. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Thom.” She waved and walked away.
Jesse watched her go, relief spreading through him. He nearly had a heart attack when Thom came careening around the corner with a cry of, “Jesse!”
The girl, who was halfway down the pavement, turned around. Her eyes went wide.
Jesse grabbed Thom’s wrist and dragged him into the nearest shop. “Time to go!”
(274 words)
Jesse shoved his hands into his pockets and hoped his hat covered his hair adequately. “Thom,” he said. He would answer to that in a crowd.
“Oh.” The girl’s expression was disappointed. “It’s just - you look like Jesse Carlisle.”
“Who?” he asked, and was pleased that his innocent mien was holding. He wouldn’t be much of an actor if he couldn’t keep up this one small façade.
The girl looked exasperated. “The villian from the new Angel Revelations film,” she said. She flipped her hair over her shoulder with an impatient gesture. “I suppose since you’re a boy you don’t really care, but Jesse Carlisle’s a really hot, really talented actor from England.”
Jesse blinked and tried not to let his surprise show. His managers had ranted and raved about the reviews he was getting in the press, but he’d never been confronted so brazenly by a teenage girl’s opinion. “Oh. I’m sure he’d be, er, really flattered to hear you say that.”
“You really look like him,” the girl said again, and peered closer.
He backed up a step. “I guess that’s a compliment, then,” he said cautiously.
The girl studied his face a moment longer, then sighed and stepped back. “Well, it was nice meeting you, Thom.” She waved and walked away.
Jesse watched her go, relief spreading through him. He nearly had a heart attack when Thom came careening around the corner with a cry of, “Jesse!”
The girl, who was halfway down the pavement, turned around. Her eyes went wide.
Jesse grabbed Thom’s wrist and dragged him into the nearest shop. “Time to go!”
(274 words)
Inter-office Cooperation
Jennifer hung back and watched Samantha talking to the really hot lawyer who worked in the firm on the third floor. Sam worked at that office too, ostensibly as a secretary, so the were probably talking business, but goodness gracious the man was fun to watch.
As soon as the man was gone, Jennifer stepped out from the around the corner as if she’d just gotten off the elevator, and she slung an arm around Sam’s shoulders.
“So I saw you talking to Counselor Hotness,” she said.
Sam rolled her eyes. “You shouldn’t talk about one of the senior partners like that.”
Jennifer craned her neck to peer at the man’s retreating figure. “He’s really a senior partner? He’s so young.”
“He’s a hotshot litigator.” Sam steered the both of them toward the hoagie stand that stood next to the Starbucks kiosk. “Come on - let’s get some food.”
“You should totally come on to him,” Jennifer said. “Isn’t that what hotshot lawyers do? Spend way too many hours at work and have sordid love affairs with their secretaries?”
“I’m glad you think so much of the legal profession,” Sam drawled. “And there are rules about that sort of thing - sexual harassment goes every which way now.”
Jennifer laughed. “You need to loosen up a bit, Sam. You get to see him every day, enjoy his Adonis-like beauty. You should be a happy, happy girl!”
Sam opened her mouth to reply, but her cell phone rang. She checked the number and winced. “It’s one of the senior partners. Go - get us the usual.” She pushed Jennifer toward the hoagie stand.
Jennifer, still laughing, went to stand in line behind the other office workers on her lunch break. She didn’t see the smirk that crossed Sam’s face as she answered the phone, didn’t hear the conversation that followed.
“What is it, Counselor Hotness?”
“Is that what she calls me?”
“That’s a direct quote.”
“She still thinks you’re a secretary and doesn’t know you’re my wife, right?”
“It’s going to stay that way as long as possible,” Sam said, and darted a glance at Jennifer, who was flirting with one of the mail room boys from the accounting firm on the fourth floor. “Now get home and check on our son, all right?”
Her husband laughed and disconnected. Sam slid her cell phone into her bag and went to join Jennifer at her usual table.
“You know,” Sam said, “I should tell him you call him Counselor Hotness.”
Jennifer snorted delicately. “You don’t have the nerve.”
Same smiled and lied. “That’s true.”
(430 words)
As soon as the man was gone, Jennifer stepped out from the around the corner as if she’d just gotten off the elevator, and she slung an arm around Sam’s shoulders.
“So I saw you talking to Counselor Hotness,” she said.
Sam rolled her eyes. “You shouldn’t talk about one of the senior partners like that.”
Jennifer craned her neck to peer at the man’s retreating figure. “He’s really a senior partner? He’s so young.”
“He’s a hotshot litigator.” Sam steered the both of them toward the hoagie stand that stood next to the Starbucks kiosk. “Come on - let’s get some food.”
“You should totally come on to him,” Jennifer said. “Isn’t that what hotshot lawyers do? Spend way too many hours at work and have sordid love affairs with their secretaries?”
“I’m glad you think so much of the legal profession,” Sam drawled. “And there are rules about that sort of thing - sexual harassment goes every which way now.”
Jennifer laughed. “You need to loosen up a bit, Sam. You get to see him every day, enjoy his Adonis-like beauty. You should be a happy, happy girl!”
Sam opened her mouth to reply, but her cell phone rang. She checked the number and winced. “It’s one of the senior partners. Go - get us the usual.” She pushed Jennifer toward the hoagie stand.
Jennifer, still laughing, went to stand in line behind the other office workers on her lunch break. She didn’t see the smirk that crossed Sam’s face as she answered the phone, didn’t hear the conversation that followed.
“What is it, Counselor Hotness?”
“Is that what she calls me?”
“That’s a direct quote.”
“She still thinks you’re a secretary and doesn’t know you’re my wife, right?”
“It’s going to stay that way as long as possible,” Sam said, and darted a glance at Jennifer, who was flirting with one of the mail room boys from the accounting firm on the fourth floor. “Now get home and check on our son, all right?”
Her husband laughed and disconnected. Sam slid her cell phone into her bag and went to join Jennifer at her usual table.
“You know,” Sam said, “I should tell him you call him Counselor Hotness.”
Jennifer snorted delicately. “You don’t have the nerve.”
Same smiled and lied. “That’s true.”
(430 words)
Friday, January 30, 2009
What Did You Do?
David stared in shock at what he saw. He was not sure if sleep deprivation was causing him to hallucinate, or what he was seeing was real. He closed and slowly opened his eyes again, the sight did not change.
"What did you do?" David advanced on his men, the three of them backing away from their leader.
Joe, Brian and Mark backed up until they were against the wall.
David was tired, he was sore, he had been pushed about as far as he could go. And now, he was angry.
Joe was edging away from his angry commander, but froze when David barked "Attention!" They all jerked to a halt and felt themselves snap to attention, years of training betraying their desire to run from the ire of their commander.
"I asked you a question." David's voice was deadly quiet.
David sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as Joe broke into a rambling story.
Steve, who was standing to the side rolled his eyes at Joe's story.
"And that's what happened." Joe finally seemed to take a breath, the others nodding.
"Just fix it." David said in exasperation. He turned to Steve, his second in command and walked away with him, conversing quietly.
"Yes sir." they chorused meekly and moved away from their commander, gathering tools.
David turned to look at the damage. The drivers side mirror had been sheered off of the car body.
Brian shot a look at Mark. "What if...?"
"Shut it. What he doesn't know won't kill us."
"You and your stupid ideas Joe." Mark growled at him.
"Hey, I kept him from killing us, and if we play it smart, he'll never know what really happened." Joe shot back.
The others grumbled as they set to repairing their leaders car.
"What did you do?" David advanced on his men, the three of them backing away from their leader.
Joe, Brian and Mark backed up until they were against the wall.
David was tired, he was sore, he had been pushed about as far as he could go. And now, he was angry.
Joe was edging away from his angry commander, but froze when David barked "Attention!" They all jerked to a halt and felt themselves snap to attention, years of training betraying their desire to run from the ire of their commander.
"I asked you a question." David's voice was deadly quiet.
David sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as Joe broke into a rambling story.
Steve, who was standing to the side rolled his eyes at Joe's story.
"And that's what happened." Joe finally seemed to take a breath, the others nodding.
"Just fix it." David said in exasperation. He turned to Steve, his second in command and walked away with him, conversing quietly.
"Yes sir." they chorused meekly and moved away from their commander, gathering tools.
David turned to look at the damage. The drivers side mirror had been sheered off of the car body.
Brian shot a look at Mark. "What if...?"
"Shut it. What he doesn't know won't kill us."
"You and your stupid ideas Joe." Mark growled at him.
"Hey, I kept him from killing us, and if we play it smart, he'll never know what really happened." Joe shot back.
The others grumbled as they set to repairing their leaders car.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Another Left Behind
The four young men waited. They had been there for a while, marking time until the fifth arrived and they could be on their way.
Joe, Steve, and Mark were getting impatient for David to get there. They tossed a baseball back and forth, acting like the young men that they were, but anxious to be gone.
Steve checked his watch again for the tenth time. "He's never late, at least I have never known him to be late. Do you guys think something happened to him?"
"Naw," Mark piped up, deftly catching the ball that Brian had careened at his head. "He's probably just stuck in traffic or something. Nothing to be worried about."
"Yeah," Brian said taking his turn with the ball, "I mean, have you ever known a time that David couldn't handle himself?"
"I suppose not, but it's still strange that he's not here yet," Steve said, glancing at his watch again.
"Oh, you worry to much. Someone would think you were his mother." Joe reached over and punched Steve on the shoulder.
Steve sighed and pulled down his shirt sleeve to cover his watch, trying not to think about the minutes passing by. Steve kept an eye out for David as the others game of catch turned into at throwing contest that devolved into a wrestling match.
Steve perked up at the sound of a roaring engine heading their way.
David pulled up to the curb in his black Camero that he drove and opened the door. Killing the engine he stepped out and faced his crew.
"Where ya been man?" Joe called from the pile of bodies on the ground.
"You okay boss?" Steve asked quietly?
Rain had begun to fall, and David did not bother to take off his sunglasses even though the sun was starting to go down.
David looked down at his men on the ground until they pulled themselves to their feet, dusting off their clothes. He looked over at Steve. "I'm fine." His voice was flat, nothing to hint at any type of emotion at all. "Get in." He ordered them.
The three men piled into the back, still shoving each other playfully.
Steve slid into the passenger and David climbed behind the wheel.
"Boss..."
"I said I'm fine." His tone was harsh. The three in the back quieted down suddenly.
David started the car with a roar and accelerated away from the curb, rounding corners and blowing through stop signs until they reached the highway.
Joe, Mark and Brian began talking quietly. David looked in the rear view mirror at the city he was leaving behind. "I'm fine he whispered to himself."
But he knew it was a lie.
Joe, Steve, and Mark were getting impatient for David to get there. They tossed a baseball back and forth, acting like the young men that they were, but anxious to be gone.
Steve checked his watch again for the tenth time. "He's never late, at least I have never known him to be late. Do you guys think something happened to him?"
"Naw," Mark piped up, deftly catching the ball that Brian had careened at his head. "He's probably just stuck in traffic or something. Nothing to be worried about."
"Yeah," Brian said taking his turn with the ball, "I mean, have you ever known a time that David couldn't handle himself?"
"I suppose not, but it's still strange that he's not here yet," Steve said, glancing at his watch again.
"Oh, you worry to much. Someone would think you were his mother." Joe reached over and punched Steve on the shoulder.
Steve sighed and pulled down his shirt sleeve to cover his watch, trying not to think about the minutes passing by. Steve kept an eye out for David as the others game of catch turned into at throwing contest that devolved into a wrestling match.
Steve perked up at the sound of a roaring engine heading their way.
David pulled up to the curb in his black Camero that he drove and opened the door. Killing the engine he stepped out and faced his crew.
"Where ya been man?" Joe called from the pile of bodies on the ground.
"You okay boss?" Steve asked quietly?
Rain had begun to fall, and David did not bother to take off his sunglasses even though the sun was starting to go down.
David looked down at his men on the ground until they pulled themselves to their feet, dusting off their clothes. He looked over at Steve. "I'm fine." His voice was flat, nothing to hint at any type of emotion at all. "Get in." He ordered them.
The three men piled into the back, still shoving each other playfully.
Steve slid into the passenger and David climbed behind the wheel.
"Boss..."
"I said I'm fine." His tone was harsh. The three in the back quieted down suddenly.
David started the car with a roar and accelerated away from the curb, rounding corners and blowing through stop signs until they reached the highway.
Joe, Mark and Brian began talking quietly. David looked in the rear view mirror at the city he was leaving behind. "I'm fine he whispered to himself."
But he knew it was a lie.
Helping a Friend
“I did it because I had to.” His eyes were dark, solemn. His calm expression belied the stain of arterial spray across his face, the gore dripping from his hands.
“Eddie,” she said. Her voice wavered, but her gun didn’t.
He kept his hands in the air, his back to the wall. “You know what they did to me. I had no choice. It was the only way.”
She took a deep breath to steady herself before the memories hit, because they always did, at just the wrong moment. Eddie’s voice, so small and soft as he wept in the darkness in the bed across from hers, the sound of fists on flesh coming from the shadows across the hall -- she did know what they’d done to him, and heaven help her if she wasn’t fiercely glad he’d done it.
“You can’t stay here,” she said finally. “Find the Merchant - he’ll get you out safely.”
“They won’t just let me walk out of here alive.”
She gestured with the gun. “Then distract them.”
He studied her expression.
She sighed. “Don’t hit anything vital.”
“All right.” And he lunged. They grappled, exchanged blow for blow in smooth martial precision, and then he pinned her down, shot her through the shoulder. He was out the window and down the fire escape in two seconds. Three seconds later, back-up arrived. Simons knelt beside her and put pressure on the wound, screaming into his cell phone for a bus.
The paramedics arrived quickly enough, but Eddie was a good shot and even though her shoulder hurt something fierce she knew she would be fine. As the paramedics wheeled her away on the stretched, Simons hovered anxiously.
“Did the suspect say anything?”
“No. I had him cornered and we fought and he got my gun and --”
Simons smoothed a hand over her hair. “Hey, hey, it’s not your fault. See you at the hospital.”
She nodded and closed her eyes. She’d see Eddie again. In the meantime, he was safe.
(336 words)
“Eddie,” she said. Her voice wavered, but her gun didn’t.
He kept his hands in the air, his back to the wall. “You know what they did to me. I had no choice. It was the only way.”
She took a deep breath to steady herself before the memories hit, because they always did, at just the wrong moment. Eddie’s voice, so small and soft as he wept in the darkness in the bed across from hers, the sound of fists on flesh coming from the shadows across the hall -- she did know what they’d done to him, and heaven help her if she wasn’t fiercely glad he’d done it.
“You can’t stay here,” she said finally. “Find the Merchant - he’ll get you out safely.”
“They won’t just let me walk out of here alive.”
She gestured with the gun. “Then distract them.”
He studied her expression.
She sighed. “Don’t hit anything vital.”
“All right.” And he lunged. They grappled, exchanged blow for blow in smooth martial precision, and then he pinned her down, shot her through the shoulder. He was out the window and down the fire escape in two seconds. Three seconds later, back-up arrived. Simons knelt beside her and put pressure on the wound, screaming into his cell phone for a bus.
The paramedics arrived quickly enough, but Eddie was a good shot and even though her shoulder hurt something fierce she knew she would be fine. As the paramedics wheeled her away on the stretched, Simons hovered anxiously.
“Did the suspect say anything?”
“No. I had him cornered and we fought and he got my gun and --”
Simons smoothed a hand over her hair. “Hey, hey, it’s not your fault. See you at the hospital.”
She nodded and closed her eyes. She’d see Eddie again. In the meantime, he was safe.
(336 words)
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Easier to Lie
“Hey kid, why aren’t you in school?”
Spencer lifted his head and blinked, confused. He’d been so engrossed in his abnormal psychology textbook that he hadn’t even noticed he’d wandered a little too far from campus.
The truant officer who loomed over him looked like every other jerkface cop who’d given him trouble since he’d started, but Spencer didn’t recognize his face. He must have been new, then, and the others probably hadn’t thought to warn him about the little fifteen-year-old kid who had a free pass from the dean of psychology over at UNLV.
“I’m on my way to class, actually.” Spencer pushed his glasses up his nose, clutched his textbook to his chest.
“Then I’ll walk you,” the cop said. He grabbed Spencer by the collar and started to haul him toward the high school.
“Sir, really, I’m not a high school student,” Spencer said. “I mean, I am high school age, but --”
The cop shook him once, roughly, and Spencer felt, rather sourly, like a mistreated puppy.
“Shut up, kid. Who’s your homeroom teacher?”
“Sir --”
“Who?”
Spencer sighed. “Mrs. Putnam.” It was no use telling the truth when they got like this. The cop didn’t let up on his grip on Spencer’s collar, so he had to tacitly consent to being dragged along like a sack of potatoes. He’d been into the high school before on excursions just like this, and he didn’t miss the garish lockers, the crookedly-drawn posters announcing football games and prom.
He didn’t miss any of it.
The cop dragged him down the hall to Mrs. Putnam’s room. He flung open the door, chest puffed out like a grand-standing terrier, and hauled Spencer in front of her desk.
“You missing a student, ma’am?” He kept his voice gruff. Did he think he was Clint Eastwood?
Mrs. Putnam peered at Spencer over the top of her glasses and smiled sympathetically. “You must be new, Officer Jenkins. Mr. Reid is not a student here, or at any high school in this district. Perhaps your fellow officers neglected to mention it to you. Spencer, aren’t you late for class?”
“My Jung seminar was cancelled for the day, actually.” Spencer felt the cop’s grip on him relax, and he squirmed free. “Have a good day, Mrs. Putnam. Sorry to interrupt.” And he left the humiliated cop behind. Some days, it was just easier to lie.
(402)
Spencer lifted his head and blinked, confused. He’d been so engrossed in his abnormal psychology textbook that he hadn’t even noticed he’d wandered a little too far from campus.
The truant officer who loomed over him looked like every other jerkface cop who’d given him trouble since he’d started, but Spencer didn’t recognize his face. He must have been new, then, and the others probably hadn’t thought to warn him about the little fifteen-year-old kid who had a free pass from the dean of psychology over at UNLV.
“I’m on my way to class, actually.” Spencer pushed his glasses up his nose, clutched his textbook to his chest.
“Then I’ll walk you,” the cop said. He grabbed Spencer by the collar and started to haul him toward the high school.
“Sir, really, I’m not a high school student,” Spencer said. “I mean, I am high school age, but --”
The cop shook him once, roughly, and Spencer felt, rather sourly, like a mistreated puppy.
“Shut up, kid. Who’s your homeroom teacher?”
“Sir --”
“Who?”
Spencer sighed. “Mrs. Putnam.” It was no use telling the truth when they got like this. The cop didn’t let up on his grip on Spencer’s collar, so he had to tacitly consent to being dragged along like a sack of potatoes. He’d been into the high school before on excursions just like this, and he didn’t miss the garish lockers, the crookedly-drawn posters announcing football games and prom.
He didn’t miss any of it.
The cop dragged him down the hall to Mrs. Putnam’s room. He flung open the door, chest puffed out like a grand-standing terrier, and hauled Spencer in front of her desk.
“You missing a student, ma’am?” He kept his voice gruff. Did he think he was Clint Eastwood?
Mrs. Putnam peered at Spencer over the top of her glasses and smiled sympathetically. “You must be new, Officer Jenkins. Mr. Reid is not a student here, or at any high school in this district. Perhaps your fellow officers neglected to mention it to you. Spencer, aren’t you late for class?”
“My Jung seminar was cancelled for the day, actually.” Spencer felt the cop’s grip on him relax, and he squirmed free. “Have a good day, Mrs. Putnam. Sorry to interrupt.” And he left the humiliated cop behind. Some days, it was just easier to lie.
(402)
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