Writing Exercise 12: Damsels with Balls

Cassandra by *mari-na on deviantART

As the title suggests, this is about a strong female character. The theme is 'Greek Myth'. Options for potential stories include a modern retelling, making a female the lead, or (this is my favourite) creating a new one where the heroine's pride leads to her downfall. Some confident gesture puts her in peril. Perhaps she spurns a king and is banished? There are a lot of familiar trials to put on your character to struggle free from.

That's the plot pretty much taken care of. Too formulaic for you? Then use this exercise to focus on creating a sympathetic character, despite her flaws, and creating reader empathy. Most importantly, focus on creating a gripping beginning. There'll be time for atmosphere later. (And isn't atmosphere the easy part for most of us? You'd hardly be stretching yourself to practice what you're good at.)

Good luck!

Writing Exercise 3: Characters are their own story (if they're interesting enough)

I've just finished reading the Book of Other People, short stories, each about characters and all were strangely fascinating. The plot wasn't important, the people were and so that is what this prompt is centred on: write about a character.
You may already have a character in mind, someone waiting for a plot but doesn't really need one. Use them. Otherwise I've added two pictures to inspire thoughts of distinctive characteristcs.

Other things to include:
1) a precious object - choose from a knitting needle, an amber paperweight, a shoestring, a feather or a lock of hair



Silent Night I by ~kandieis on deviantART


We're All Stars. by =t0x1c-d0LLy on deviantART

Upside Up

Image via Wikipedia

"What are you doing on the ceiling?" Judy gasped, slamming the door behind her. Stephen sputtered indignantly.

"What are you doing on the ceiling?"

Silenced, Judy crossed her arms and paced. To come home and find your husband splayed across the ceiling, ankles bound by silk scarves to the dangling ceiling lamps and gripping the curtain rail for dear life... Well! It was an ugly surprise. She glanced once before averting her eyes.

"This isn't funny Stephen," she told the floor. "What are you doing?"

"Everything's upside down," he mused. "Even you. I didn't think you would be."

"No it's not Stephen. It really isn't."

"It is. It is. I swear it is. I feel so much better on the ground. The ceiling made my stomach turn."

Judy lifted a hand to hide her face.

"Honey, please come down."

"I should ask the same. How are you still well?" His faint smile sent her hand for the phone.

"I'm not the one who's sick," she murmured, dialling then putting the phone to her ear. "...Hello? My husband's gone mad or had a stroke or something. He's currently hanging off the ceiling... Yes. 113 Clarrendon Road... OK, I'll try."

"I wonder why this happened..."

Judy quietly left the room and returned with a chair, left again and brought a box. She brought anything sturdy and stacked them underneath him. Under her breath she cursed as she built her shaky staircase.

"How did you get up there? Fly? Trust you to go insane before I do. Was it in spite?"

Stephen frowned.

"Innocence isn't exactly your strong point, babe. I know you’d do this on purpose."

"You really think I'm wrong? That I'm the upside down one?"

"Yes," Judy cried, climbing onto a small coffee table.

He shook his head. "Mad, woman. Pure insanity." She lifted her face towards his and smiled thinly.

Balancing on her tower of furniture she took hold of his wrists. "Come on Stephen. People are coming to help you. Please come down."

"Gladly, if that were down," he said, motioning with his nose and almost smacking heads.

"Stephen, come down," she growled, trying to wrench his fingers off the rail.

"No! No-no!" He squeezed his face up tight.

"I'm trying to help you," she argued, thumping his fingers as hard as she could.

"Ow!" He tried to shake her off his arms. "Get off!" He shook harder. In a moment his fingers slipped and in the next, Judy lay under a noisy pile of furniture and Sephen swung from the ceiling by his ankles.

And that was how the ambulance crew found them.

In the ambulance, Judy glared at Stephen as he struggled with two paramedics trying to climb to the roof of the vehicle.

"Definitely needs a CAT scan, this one," said the bulkier, who promptly received a hand pushed into his face.

"What about me?" Judy asked.

"It'll take a month or two for you to recover from your bruising and broken arm, but you'll be fine," a third paramedic said, watching the others wrestle with mild amusement.

"Oh! That's okay," she said looking pointedly in her husband's direction. "That’s just splendid."




Wrote this one a while ago, when I was utterly bored, to entertain myself. Almost threw it away. Probably needs some editing but I don't think it's worth it.