The One

Let’s have fun this week. We want you to write a personal ad for your character, like one you would find on a dating site. The ad should tell us about your character, but should not be a laundry list – and no cliches about walks on the beach.

Make it interesting, unexpected. Is there something your character is trying to hide that you can tell by reading between the lines? Would we know which character it was (if you have a recurring one) by reading the ad? Will something be revealed?

That tall, thin, flirty blond you see ever day? That’s not me. Actually… that’s so far from me that it isn’t funny.

I’m the one walking down the sidewalk, the one you pass by without a second glance. I’m the one you see sitting at the table, tea in hand and a book in front of me while I take notes in another next to me.

I’m the one that buys the organic produce, chai tea, and Diet Coke at the grocery store.

I’m the one that sits in the movie theater alone enjoying the movie and my buttered popcorn.

Lifelong student, book reader, wine lover, and slightly introverted.

I’m the one you’ll find sipping a glass of wine at a local restaurant while eating dinner with my closest friends.

You’ll find me sitting in the book store or library all day perusing the rows upon rows of books.

Or maybe window shopping the whimsical stores along the street of a small town.

How will you know me? How will you know that I’m the right one?

You’ll know because I’m the tall one with long dark hair and piercing blue eyes.  On occasion you’ll see me in glasses… but only when I read.

Always in heels.

Always dressed well.

Never full of my self.

Not high maintenance.

Honest.

I’m the one.

Come find me.

Escape

It is a time of transition: summer to fall, kids back to school, no more wearing white..

For this week’s prompt, write about a season of change for your character or you. It can be literal or metaphorical.

This is another installment of my Memoir story. I really should give this guy a name soon!

I’d love to hear your concrit on this and what you think I can do to make it better. I like writing this story and while it’s easy to hear the southern accent of him in my head it’s hard to get it written…. especially for someone who isn’t from the south!

Let’s see.. it musta been around 1902 when I fell in with the wrong group, but at the time they welcomed me as one of their own and didn’t think twice about me being from the south and all.

My goal of gettin’ lost in the crowd didn’t last to long with them boys. Nope… not at all. What did happen was a lot of attention and none of the good kind. The law was always gettin’ after us for one thing or another.

You see we were a bunch of low life’s who had no family other then each other and no real home to call our own. So ya see we did a bit stealing here and there to make ends meet. Nothing all that bad.

It wasn’t till one day that Joey came up with this grand scheme. He was planning for us to rob a bank! At first we was all scared… not one of us wanted to do it but Joey… he’s a sweet talker and soon enough we calmed down and were seeing things his way. After that all I could think about was that money and all the things I was gonna do with it.

I was gonna buy me one of them fancy suits and have me a fine dinner at one of them hotels downtown. Yup, that was the plan.

Joey was the smartest one of the group… or so I thought at the time. What he really was was conniving, manipulative and subtle. He could talk a bee out of his honey! But I was still young and wanted to believe he was right so I went along with it.

That night it was raining so hard you couldn’t see nothin’ but it wasn’t stopping us. We wanted that money and outta the city before we got caught, ain’t one of us that wanted to go to jail. The stories we heard… well, I can’t be repeating them.

We knew all the in’s and outs of the bank and how many guards was there so we was careful and watched for the flicker of the flashlights as we made our way inside.

I was getting nervous….real scared like. It was like all of a sudden things were gettin’ real clear to me, this wasn’t the life I wanted and it sure as hell what I ran away for. So I walked over to Joey and told him straight that I was out and man he got angry fast. I’d never seen someone turn that fast… not even my daddy. I told him the way it was and that I wasn’t gonna risk it anymore.

Joey grabbed me by the collar, he was a big guy, and pulled me hard against him so we was face to face. I wasn’t lettin’ on that I was scared because that woulda’ made him happy.

He just stared me in the eye as he shoved me against the building hard. I crumpled to the ground and was just barely able to get outta his way before he grabbed me again. The other guys was getting loud and Joey yelled at ’em to shut up or we’d get caught… course they stopped since they didn’t want to get beat up either.

While he was yelling at the others I made my escape. I ran and ran for I don’t know how long, but I finally made it back to where we was staying and was there long enough to grab my stuff and a few other things and then take off.

I was lucky enough to hop a train headed north. I was gonna get a job and do things proper.

 

Pictures

This week’s prompt is based on the picture below. It’s one that when I saw it I wasn’t going to take part because it didn’t fit the story lines that I had already started. But I decided to push myself since it wasn’t a very good reason to not write.

I don’t want to say I struggled with what I wrote but it’s more that I feel like something is missing and I don’t know what it is. So please read and give me your feedback. Good, bad, or otherwise!

 

cameraShe had to get out from behind the camera, she knew that but it was more difficult that one would think.

Her life was her cameras, film, and her dark room. They brought her comfort like nothing else in the world could. With her camera she was part of everything that she took a picture of without having to actually interact with people.

Introvert. That was one way to put it. Shy, reserved, or wallflower were a few more but whatever you called it what it came down to was that she wasn’t comfortable with people.

She’d always been this way, for as long as she could remember. Playing the park as a little girl she’d always find the swing that was furthest from all the other kids or go sit under a tree and read a book.

It wasn’t until her parents bought her a camera for her 14th birthday that she started to get out more. Still alone and still not mingling too much with others, but they were happy that it was a start.

Pictures became her life. She took her camera everywhere and took pictures of virtually everything and everyone. Most people didn’t realize that they were her subjects as she captured their smiles, their laughter, their games, families, and picnics in the park.

She captured the little things in life that she was missing out on and lived through her photos.

She’d sort through her best pictures, lay them out on the table, and just look at them. Why couldn’t she be the girl in the picture having a picnic with her boyfriend? Why couldn’t she be the young mother pushing the carriage through the park? Why couldn’t she be the one eating lunch with friends and laughing?

She surrounded herself with pictures, instead of people, wanting to be part of it all. She wanted to step outside herself and be a different person.

She wanted to change. But how?

For now she had her cameras and the world was her canvas. The world through pictures was her only friend.

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Pictures – The Rewrite

Based on some great feedback and the fact that this post just bothered me I decided to rewrite it but put it with the original so you could compare the two.

Looking down at the glossy photo as her tears started to slowly dissolve the image she became more angry. Why! The paper crumpled easily in her hands as the edges of the thick paper poked her palm as she crushed it. Pictures were supposed to evoke feelings from remembering a beautiful moment in life… not pain from the paper.

She had to get out from behind the camera, she knew that but it was more difficult than anyone imagined.

This was her life and she’d always been this way, for as long as she could remember.

Pictures became her life. With her camera slung over her shoulder or around her neck it everywhere with her and she took pictures of virtually everything and everyone. People didn’t realize that they were her subjects as she captured their smiles, their laughter, their games, families, and picnics in the park.

With every click of the shutter she captured the little things in life that she was missing out on and lived through her photos.

She sorted through her best pictures; laid them out on the table, and just looked at them. Why couldn’t she be the girl in the picture having a picnic with her boyfriend? Why couldn’t she be the young mother pushing the carriage through the park? Why couldn’t she be the one eating lunch with friends and laughing?

Playing in the park as a little girl she’d always find the swing that was furthest from all the other kids wishing that she wasn’t so afraid to talk to the other kids. Fear kept her from living life.

She surrounded herself with pictures, instead of people, wanting to be part of it all. She wanted to step outside herself and be a different person.

Change. Change is really what she wanted in her life. But how?

But for now she had her cameras and the world was her canvas. The world through pictures was her only friend.

The Perfect Shoes

One of my favorite parts of summer is THE SHOES. So for your prompt this week I’d like you to write about your character (or yourself) and a pair of his or her shoes.

Those shoes can be real or symbolic, they can hurt or be super comfy but I want to see what they say about the life of the person wearing them. It’s a chance to use all those descriptive words I love reading.

She had the dress. She had the jewelry. She had the headpiece, the flowers, the something old, something new, something borrowed, and something blue. What she didn’t have was the shoes. Shoes… she’d look at damn near a hundred pair and still nothing stuck out as the right ones.

Jimmy Choo, Manolo Blahnik, Ferragamo, Vivienne Westwood…. She’d looked at those and didn’t like any of them. She went to Payless…the shoe store in the mall, and Macy’s but couldn’t find the perfect pair.

Why? Why was it so difficult to find something stylish, comfortable, and fit her personality? Everything else was perfect except for the shoes. They… were missing.

Until one day Becca was wandering through the city and stumbled upon a small, out of the way shop and something about the quaint window displays beckoned her to come in.

As she walked in the old fashioned bell chimed signaling to the clerk that someone had entered. She started looking around at the unique and odd mix of stuff that was in the store… books, home décor, clothing, jewelry, and shoes. Some new, some vintage but all very beautiful.

A small old woman entered curtained doorway that came from the back of the store. She was adorable, very much like a fairie godmother sort of way. She was short and round with silver gray hair that was curled around her cheery face.

She smiled at Becca and it filled her with warmth. “Is there something I can help you with, my dear?” She asked as she walked towards Becca.

“No,” she said returning her smile. “I’m just looking right now.”

“Ah ha.” The woman said like she knew something. “You’re missing something… looking for something special. Aren’t you?

Becca stopped and looked at her with confusion. “Umm.. no… well, yes. Yes, I am.”

Again the woman smiled at her and moved towards the curtained doorway. “I have exactly what you’re looking for.” And she disappeared into the back.

Becca felt like a giddy schoolgirl and had no idea why. She knew that something special was about to happen and that she had made a smart choice walking into the shop.

Almost as quickly as she went through the curtain the woman returned with two unmarked boxes.

“Sit…sit. My dear,” she said as she motioned towards a large, upholstered chair against the far wall. Becca did as she was asked and the woman came close and sat the boxes down on the table near.

“Here,” she said handing her the first box. “I think this is exactly what you want.”

Hesitantly, Becca took the box from the woman and set it on her lap. Slowly she opened it to see what was inside. Shoes. The most perfect, beautiful shoes she’d ever seen. Shoes the color of the water. They were the shoes.

The shoes were a smooth & shiny patent leather with a stacked heel that wasn’t too high but wasn’t to low either and a buckle at the peep toe. Perfect to show off her new pedicure. Perfect as a stunning addition to her dress.

“How?” She stammered looking at the woman. “How did you know?”

A warm smile again. “Ah… I always know.”

Peering down into the box Becca wondered if they’d fit and gently she lifted one out and it easily slipped onto her foot as if they were made just for her. In no time she had the both on and was admiring them with her legs stretched out in front of her. Perfect, she thought, absolutely perfect!

“Aren’t you going to check the other box, my dear?” The woman asked her.

As if coming out of a dream Becca looked at the other box. “Oh, yes. But I think these are the ones.” She opened the box and looked inside and there was another pair of shoes. This time they were a snowy, white satin gathered at the toe with a pretty organza flower. Again they were perfect.

“You’re feet may get tired of being in heels all day,” the woman explained. “These are as comfortable as walking on a cloud.”

And they were. Becca was overjoyed and couldn’t believe her luck.

She put her old shoes back on and moved towards the counter with the boxes. “How can I ever thank you?” She asked.

“Be happy. Love your husband. Cherish the time you have together.”

Becca walked out the door having paid very little for her wedding shoes but couldn’t have been happier no matter what the cost.

 

Want to read more on Becca & Jake’s story? Click here.