Writing Muse Archives - Page 3 of 7 - Writing Like a Dancer

WRITING AN ANECDOTE

Posted on July 23, 2014 by writ7707 Posted in Anecdote, Literary categories, Literary Genres, The Writing Life, The Writing Muse, Writing Muse 1 Comment

Writing Practice and The Muse Who is Always There

Writing Leap #43

Hi Writers Out There,

An anecdote is a short piece, written or spoken. (Short except for those who go on and on. We writers, of course, feel for our readers and listeners and keep our anecdotes bared to the bones.)

The anecdote can portray a situation or something that happened. Fiction or non-fiction. Sometimes it’s funny or thought-provoking or scary. It’s meant to entertain or enlighten.

It usually starts off with “You won’t believe this.” Or, “The silliest (most terrifying, surprising, etc.) thing happened.

So writers, find your anecdote! I’ve discovered it’s great practice for writing prose that is clear, simple and evocative.

Here’s my attempt.

An Adventure in Another World

It was imperative to find a large, long watermelon. The smaller round ones available in the markets would not do at all for my project for my daughter’s baby shower. This entailed carving the watermelon into the shape of a cradle, scooping it out, making two baby grapefruit faces (she’s having twins) and filling it up with fruit salad.

My husband Garrett and I headed to Hunt’s Point Wholesale Market in the Bronx, despite warnings that it’s off limits to the general public. I was obsessed.

The Hunt’s Point Market is a huge complex of warehouses. We walked in-between the 18 wheelers lined up everywhere and found the watermelon people. Up a ramp and an outdoor staircase we came upon hundreds and hundreds of shiny, green watermelons. As well as crowds of strong, busy workers hauling them and calling to each other in Chinese, English, Spanish and maybe Russian.

A grouchy lot. All men. Were they all ex-longshoremen?

I felt a surprising flicker of fear. Me, the only woman.

Someone pointed to Freddy, the manager, who was occupied behind a counter. He barely lifted his head, true annoyance wafting in our direction. We begged. He jabbed his finger in the direction of a huge bin.

“Thank you so much,” I said. “It’s a party for my daughter. She’s having twins.”

What was wrong with me? He didn’t care a fig that my daughter was having twins.

A non-communicative worker climbed up into the high bin and brought down a lovely, huge watermelon.

Freddy wouldn’t accept any money. He waved us off. For a second he actually smiled at me.

Garrett clutched the heavy watermelon to his chest and we walked down the ramp. I held my breath. My muscles tightened too. If he dropped it? There was no way we could go back up there.

Happy Anecdotes Everyone,

LINKING THE ARTS

A Book I Like

A Good Word

Plop: As in finding oneself plopped in the middle of a new situation

The Photo, dedicated to Freddy

WRITING THE LITERARY SNIPPET

Posted on May 30, 2014 by writ7707 Posted in Literary categories, The Writing Life, The Writing Muse, Writing, Writing and Editing, Writing Muse, Writing the Snippet, Writing what you mean Leave a comment

Writing Practice and The Muse Who is Always There

Writing Leap #41 Writing the Literary Snippet

Hi Writers,

A literary snippet is just what it sounds like; a snip of a moment captured on the page. It’s immediate, just a few sentences and complete in and of itself.

Ideas for snippets can pop into your imagination from anywhere; a memory flash from your childhood, an observation on the train, a glimpse of something moving in the natural world.

Want to try it? Snippets challenge our ability to write what we really feel and what we really mean with no extra words. I think distilling thoughts is harder to do than it may seem. It takes deep pondering as we revise and delete in our heads. But it’s what we all must do in all our writing. Offer moments to our readers that toll like a steeple bell and appear effortless.

Here’s my attempt.

Once, when I was four, I held my mother’s hand and lifted one leg after the other up the high stairs to get on the bus. She let me reach up and put the change in the money collector.

I stared at a lady who sat up very straight, hands folded in her lap. There she was. Hair rolled up under a brimmed hat with flowers sticking up in back. A mouth that was a thin, straight line. An umbrella by her side. The lady frowned at me.

“Mommy.” I pulled my mother down and whispered loudly in her ear. “Is that Mary Poppins?”

My mother’s cheeks flushed. She directed an apologetic smile to the lady and led me to a seat. She winked at me and gave me a hug. Then she said, “Maybe.”

Happy snippet writing everyone and Happy Spring

LINKING THE ARTS

Original drawings by Mary Shepard for Mary Poppins and Mary Poppins Comes Back, by P.L. Travers

A Book I Love

Recommending Again: Several Short Sentences About Writing by Verlyn Klinkenborg, former op-ed writer for the New York Times. I would sleep with this book under my pillow if I believed I would absorb all of his insights permanently in my creative unconscious. It’s about writing sentences that say what you want them to say.

A Word I Love

ponder, as in relaxing into finding the right tone, the right rhythm, the right word in your writing

WRITERS WHO READ POETRY

Posted on May 12, 2014 by writ7707 Posted in Reading like a Writer, The Writing Life, The Writing Muse, Writers and Poetry, Writing, Writing Inspiration, Writing Moment to Moment, Writing Muse 2 Comments

Writing Practice and The Muse Who is Always There

Writing Leap #40 Writers Who Read Poetry

Hi Writers,

Take a moment away from your writing time, find a comfy place to sit, open a poetry collection and read a poem at random. Breathe in the poetic lushness of the phrases, the evocative images and the essence of the words that open up to a larger universe. Close your eyes for a moment and let it all swirl around inside. Then read it once more, to be enchanted all over again with what words can do.

The poet is the writer’s muse, no matter your genre. A poem can show us how to cluster words together so they say what we mean, a lightning bolt from writer to reader.

I read this poem from time to time. It kind of haunts me. The perfect word in a perfect phrase is a lovely thing.

Picking Blueberries, by Mary Oliver New and Selected Poems, 1992

Once, in summer

in the blueberries

I fell asleep, and woke

when a deer stumbled against me.

I guess

she was so busy with her own happiness

she had grown careless

and was just wandering along

listening

to the wind as she leaned down

to lip up the sweetness.

So, there we were

with nothing between us

but a few leaves, and the wind’s

glossy voice

shouting instructions.

The deer

backed away finally

and flung up her white tail

and went floating off toward the trees—

but the moment before she did that

was so wide and deep

it has lasted to this day.

I’m stopping at these last three lines (there is more to the poem) because they are the ones that linger for me and the ones that have often affected my thought processes as I’m writing.

Happy Writing all you Wonderful Writers out there!

LINKING THE ARTS

A Visual of the deer/blueberry experience

A Good Phrase:

the expanded moment

A Story Poem for children, grown-ups and writers: Words with Wings by Nikki Grimes, 2013. For me the story shines behind and beyond the words.

RE-WRITING THE PROLOGUE

Posted on April 18, 2014 by writ7707 Posted in The Prologue in Fiction, The Writing Life, The Writing Muse, Uncategorized, Writing, Writing and Editing, Writing Inspiration, Writing Muse 6 Comments

Writing Practice and The Muse Who Is Always There

Writing Leap #38 Re-Writing the Prologue

Hi Writers,

With rare exceptions it seems the eyes of literary agents and editors glaze over when they open a fiction manuscript and see Prologue. They may groan.

I’ve heard:

It’s just an attention grabber, a “look at me I’m a fabulous writer.”

Unnecessary background that could be weaved into the main story.

Not crucial to the understanding of the plot.

If you’ve written a prologue and it’s your “darling,” you might just ditch it. It’s hard to ditch it. But your real story will start with your first line in Chapter One. Then you can turn the prologue into a short short. Or expand it into something longer that veers in a different direction from your manuscript.

The same principles of good fiction writing apply to scenes, chapters, short stories and novels: An opening that captures the reader, a smooth story arc from conflict to resolution and a strong golden thread that holds the basic premise together throughout.

To re-write a prologue into a short short, for example, may just require a few tweaks and shifts. Great practice for your craft.

My prologue to my middle-grade novel was guilty of every prologue no-no. Full of literary self-indulgences. I loved it. I reinvented it into the short short that follows. (for more on the short short: www.writinglikeadancer.com/theshortshortstory)

Two Lizzies But Really Just One

If anyone saw Lizzie twirling round and round along the ocean’s edge, clutching a letter high over her head, they might think she was showing off for the seagulls. But she was protecting her letter from the salty spray of the summer waves as they thundered on to shore.

Imagine, an invitation from the Head of the Art Department at college.

YOU HAVE WON THE STUDENT ART COMPETITION AND ARE INVITED TO EXHIBIT YOUR WORK IN A ONE-WOMAN SHOW THIS OCTOBER.

CONGRATULATIONS!

Lizzie was alone on the beach and headed towards her small cove, a sanctuary since childhood. She rested on the silvery driftwood log, her dreaming place. The sun warmth of the log melted into her bare thighs. A seagull swooped by her. Surely his flapping wings said, “Take a bow Lizzie!”

This driftwood log has survived storms and gales, she thought. Like me. I’ve survived storms, personal storms.

She stretched her legs out onto the warm sand and fanned her feet back and forth like a windmill. Happy, she thought. I’m happy.

It surprised her to see a young girl way down the empty beach walking her way. The access to this beach through the salt marsh was a local secret.

She’s beachcombing. She watched the girl crouch down, gather stuff, examine each find, throw some back and drop some in her beach bag. The young girl walked closer.

Lizzie’s heart clenched. It was herself, her nine-year-old self. Yes, yes. There she was. The blue bathing suit with the white stripes, the red baseball cap, the sad look in her eyes as she raised her hand and waved a shy hello.

A tidal wave of love and compassion swelled in Lizzie’s heart, almost breaking it. She opened her arms wide and ran towards her younger self, enfolding her and whispering in her ear with a tenderness that made her voice shake.

“Lizzie, it’s me. I’m you when you are nineteen. It’s O.K.” She rubbed the young Lizzie’s back with soft caresses. “It’s going to be O.K.” Young Lizzie sniffed back tears.

“See what you are going to become? I’m painting. I know I’m, we’re, really good. This is how you will feel at nineteen and you will be proud of who you are inside and out, I promise.”

“But I don’t feel that way right now,” young Lizzie whispered through tears.

“Oh Lizzie. How I remember those feelings.” She touched Lizzie’s legs. “Dad calling our legs toothpicks in front of people. The teasing all the time that hurt so much. How he squelched our ideas. Fears that maybe drawing all the time was strange. But Lizzie, despite all that Dad loves us. He really does. He can’t help how he is.”

Young Lizzie managed a smile. “You are beautiful and nice,” she said. She hugged older Lizzie for a long time, then began to fade away down the beach leaving footprints in the sand.

“Please remember this moment, Lizzie,” older Lizzie called out. “If only you could. Aches would melt in your heart. You would begin to love yourself so much earlier. You wouldn’t have to wait.”

Older Lizzie sat on the driftwood log, shaken by the vision of her nine-year-old self in pain. Her tears felt hot. She took out her invitation to exhibit her artwork. She read it again. She was still happy. But mostly grateful.

Happy Writing all you writers out there!

LINKING THE ARTS

The Outermost House by Henry Beston

To get a feeling of Lizzie’s beach and to actually breathe the salty ocean air.

Creating magic on the beach

article-2271713-17440467000005DC-650_634x422

Lizzie’s Cove

A Good Word: Deepen. As in deepening a happiness by remembering the now-altered pain behind it.

WRITERS AND WRITING CONFERENCES

Posted on April 8, 2014 by writ7707 Posted in Writing Inspiration, Writing Muse 2 Comments

A Writing Blog to Inspire You

Hi Writers,

I’m here to root for Writing Conferences. I love them. It’s like sneaking into the inner sanctum of the publishing world. Sometimes a passing remark from a literary agent, an editor, a writer at the buffet table can cause you to rethink your approach to the beginning of your story, the phrasing of your query letter, the tone of your dialogue. It’s a place to brush elbows with your literary colleagues and get into intense conversations about your mutual passions.

Last month I attended the annual Unicorn Writer’s Conference in Portland, Connecticut. (for information http://www.unicornforwriters.com) It’s a treasure of a conference. Wonderfully organized. (confession: the treats, beautiful notebooks, datebooks, bookmarks with unicorn images, were a highlight.)

Here’s some random tidbits I picked up at the craft workshops and agent and editor panels. I filled a notebook.

If you’re looking: Really research the right agent or editor for you. They all have websites. Some like to mentor. Others don’t. All of them represent specific genres and get a little touchy when they receive submissions outside of their interest. Touchy like not reading past the first sentence—if that.

http://www.writersthreads.com

http://www.literaryagents.com

Query newer agents. They are building their lists.

Conference presenters put attendees submissions on top of their slush pile. Put name of conference in subject line.

A query is like a movie trailer. The first scene must be the establishing shot.

No info dumping dialogue.

Introduce possibilities in your first line. Create a fast way in.

I wouldn’t have guessed that my favorite craft workshop would be “What Can Writers Learn from Linguists?” I will now pay great attention to my characters’ syntax, order of their words, be aware of how the subtle meanings of words change over time. Choose words for your characters that are appropriate for their age or for a trait you wish to portray. A linguistic note that is off can take away the power of your words.

Happy Writing Everyone and here’s to your linguistic success!

And thank you Unicorn Writing Conference.

The Lady and the Unicorn Tapestry

Hotel de Cluny Paris France

WRITING YOUR HIGHLIGHTS 2

Posted on March 3, 2014 by writ7707 Posted in The Writing Life, The Writing Muse, Writing, Writing and Editing, Writing Inspiration, Writing Muse, Writing Your Highlights 3 Comments

A Writing Blog about Playing Around with a Story Line in Different Literary Genres and with Different Literary Tools

Hi Writers,

I heard that Norman Mailer never, ever, looked at his published books in a bookstore. He couldn’t turn to one page without finding something he wanted to change.

Writers Are Rewriters, as we all know. Rewriting is as essential as dreaming.

I was thinking of my last post on Writing Your Highlights. It didn’t really say what I felt, not deeply enough. More precise ways of expressing how I was feeling at a writer’s conference I attended flooded my mind. I grabbed them, elusive little things. Jotted them down. Good. These words were closer to the pulse of that moment. Not perfect, by any means. But closer. I may try this again and again.

Before

Writer and speaker Kate Messner’s keynote. Oh, the writer’s angst. “I’m not good enough. Everybody else is getting it right. Too many manuscript rejections. Failure.” No, no, she said. Showing up to write is an act of courage. “Fail fast” and dance on. Savor that private moment to celebrate finishing a sentence, a paragraph. I found myself wiping tears off my cheeks. Don’t be so emotional, Cynthia. But to the left of me, the right of me, in front and behind me many creative souls were wiping tears too. Kate Messner touched a deep chord.

After

Writer and speaker Kate Messner’s keynote.

Oh, the writer’s angst. “I’m not good enough. Everybody else is getting it right. All these manuscript and query rejections.”

Failure.

I saw a collective look of recognition cross the faces of many of us in the audience.

But think of this, she said. Showing up to write is an act of courage. Finishing a sentence, a paragraph, is a writing triumph. She stopped and looked hard at all of us. “Savor that private moment and celebrate it.” Celebrate it hard.

I wiped tears off my cheeks. I glanced to the left, right and in front of me. We were most of us wiping tears. We want this so much.

Happy Rewriting Everyone,

Here we are–rewriting.

WRITING YOUR HIGHLIGHTS

Posted on February 26, 2014 by writ7707 Posted in Literary categories, Literary Genres, The Writing Life, The Writing Muse, Writing, Writing Inspiration, Writing Muse, Writing Your Highlights Leave a comment

A Writing Blog About Playing Around with a Story Line in Different Literary Genres and Categories

Writing Leap #36

Hi Writers,

Close your eyes and think of an event in your life. A visit with a friend, an outing, a dream or a daydream. If you focus on your highlights of the event, the moments that rush at you to be remembered, you may discover small gems that will inspire your writing. A feeling, a detail, a setting, a snippet of dialogue can all show up, transformed or not, in your writing projects.

So writers, if you like, list your highlights and let them set off some creative ideas.

The Story Line is: Moments that Stick

My highlights are from an SCBWI writing conference I attended this past weekend in New York. SCBWI is short for The Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators, the international professional organization for writers and illustrators of children’s literature. I’m listing five highlights but I could have listed twenty-five.

1. Big Highlight. Co-founder of SCBWI Lin Oliver’s warmth. What is it about Lin’s heartfelt persona that creates an atmosphere where 1000 writers and illustrators can each feel encouraged, delighted and so happy to be sitting where they are? In a ballroom laughing (she’s very humorous) feeling grateful for her passion for our craft. Inside the cocoon of her savvy know-how I floated happily from author to illustrator, sharing writerly thoughts and experiences with my “writing tribe” as Lin calls us.

2. Little Highlight. The big nine inch square shower head in the hotel. Lovely, long delicious waterfall showers where I first imagined this blog post.

3. Big Highlight. Writer and speaker Kate Messner’s keynote. Oh the writer’s angst. “I’m not good enough. Everybody else is getting it right. Too many manuscript rejections. Failure.” No, No, she said. Showing up to write is an act of courage. “Fail fast” and dance on. Savor that private moment to celebrate finishing a sentence, a paragraph. I found myself wiping tears off my cheeks. Don’t be so emotional Cynthia. But to the left of me, the right of me, in front and behind me many creative souls were wiping tears too. Kate Messner touched a deep chord.

4. A Little Highlight but memorable. Mashed potatoes served in a martini glass. Who could resist that? Lots of toppings; gravy, bacon bits, cheese, something green. Like a mashed potato candy store. Would it be piggy of me to go back for seconds to try more toppings?

5. Near Disaster. Little Highlight but really Big. “Uuum, uh,” a fellow writer glanced at my dinner plate from the buffet. She looked at my decent sized scoop of brown rice next to my sliced turkey. “Do you realize that is hot, spicy mustard?” I saw myself sinking to the hotel lobby floor gasping for my life.

Happy Writing Everyone,

LINKING THE ARTS

Books

Another Highlight: The SCBWI Bookstore, tables piled high with books from members and presenters. Exciting browsing time. Scanning titles, flipping pages. Buying way too many books.

Little Poems for Tiny Ears by Lin Oliver and illustrated by the treasure Tomie de Paolo

Words with Wings

by Nikki Grimes

A daydreaming child destined to be a writer. In verse.

A Great Word

Belonging: As in feeling connected to those with the same passion.

An Illustration that, to me, evokes belonging.

Dusan Kallay, Slovak Children’s Books, Bratislava, 2008

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY

Posted on February 14, 2014 by writ7707 Posted in Literary categories, Literary Genres, The Writing Life, Uncategorized, Writing, Writing Inspiration, Writing Muse, Writing what you mean 1 Comment

A Writing Blog to Explore Different Literary Genres and Literary Moods

Hi Writers and Readers,

May your love and passion for someone and for your writing self be so soul-shaking as to travel with you in downward dips and soar with you in upward swoops

Go ahead. Let cupid pierce your heart

And write about it

William Shakespeare

Love to all you Writers,

Happy Valentine’s Day my Garrett. Bacon first, then later French Champagne and Chocolate Eclairs

WRITING THE FAIRY TALE

Posted on February 3, 2014 by writ7707 Posted in First Lines, Literary categories, Literary Genres, The Writing Life, The Writing Muse, Uncategorized, Writing Inspiration, Writing Muse, Writing the Fairy Tale 3 Comments

A Writing Blog About Playing Around With Different Literary Genres and Categories

Writing Leap #35

Hi Writers, Hi Readers,

Remember Fairy Tales?

Ethereal castles that glitter with enchantment, huts that house evil, deep forests where magic happens. The fairy tale takes you by the hand and leads you to far away lands. Into clouds of an imaginary long ago. A lovely, scary place.

Fairy tale princes and princesses, woodsmen and lost children don’t give one thought to their inner lives or memories. They act or are acted upon. Fairy tale people are wonderfully one-dimensional, like paper dolls. They are good or they are bad. (Lending themselves to brilliant interpretations as in Carl Jung’s archetypes.)

“What happens next” happens swiftly in fairy tales. Knights slay dragons and rescue fair maidens, kings go to battle and bestow honors all in the space of a few sentences. The story sweeps along, albeit dreamily, as Philip Pullman describes in his introduction to his new book, Fairy Tales from the Brothers Grimm.

Which is why retelling or creating your own fairy tale is such good writing practice for smooth quick pacing where every word counts. You can focus solely on moving the story forward and set aside the must-haves of modern fiction–characters that breath, ones you could pinch and descriptive images that go deep.

So Writers! Make some Magic! Tell a story. You’ve already got the beginning of that difficult first line. You know–Once Upon a Time.

Put a new spin on a classic. Or just try to retell the tale in your own voice, as so many have done through time. Make them, “clear as water,” as Philip Pullman says.

I have always wanted to change the ending to Grimm’s, “The Twelve Dancing Princesses,” my favorite fairy tale since always. Here’s my chance.

My short retelling.

Once Upon a Time there was a funny old King with twelve lively daughters. His daughters kept the most glorious secret from him. About their shoes.

Every morning the King found the princesses’ tattered dancing shoes flung at the bottom of each of their twelve beds.

“What is this?” the King roared. “Why do all your shoes have holes in the bottom?”

The twelve princesses twinkled at him but refused to say a word.

He locked them in at night.

Aaah, but as they did each night, the princesses descended a magic staircase in their bedroom into an enchanted forest. Such laughter. Such happiness. Their beautiful new dancing shoes caressed their feet. Their silk ball gowns rustled by trees whose branches glittered with gold, silver and diamonds. Twelve very handsome princes rowed them across a lake to a castle with lighted candles in every window. And, oh, they danced all night until their shoes were in shreds.

The King couldn’t stand it. At his request many princes from many lands tried to discover the secret of the twelve princesses. None succeeded and the King chopped off their heads.

Meanwhile a young lad met an old woman in the woods by the King’s gardens. He smiled at her and offered her a drink of water.

“You are kind lad,” the old woman said. “Take this cape. It will make you invisible and you will discover the secret the princesses refuse to reveal.”

The lad put on the cloak and followed the princesses down the magic staircase into the enchanted forest. Unseen he danced with them all night, often stepping on the princesses’ toes. He wasn’t a good dancer but so what. What a lark! What beautiful music!

The King was overjoyed to finally know his daughters’ secret. He encouraged the lad to choose one of the princesses for his bride.

“No more dancing now my daughters. Over,” the King announced.

“No, No, No, Papa,” the princesses declared. “We will never stop dancing.”

The Queen frowned at the King and shook her finger at him.

“Hrmphh. That’s what I meant. Keep the staircase open,” the King said.

And now, whenever they choose, all the King’s subjects descend the magic staircase and wear their dancing shoes to shreds in the glittering underground castle by the lake.

The King and Queen came down occasionally. The King had some lovely moves. And the Queen was obsessed with the diamond branches that she snapped off the glistening trees and brought back to the castle.

Oh, yes. They All Lived Happily Ever After

In the classic version of this tale when the princesses were discovered they just stopped dancing.

Forgive me fairy tale purists, but No. Give up dancing? Shouldn’t we all dance our dreams, figuratively or literally? Besides, it’s all in the spirit of stretching our writerly imaginations in mind, heart and feet.

May you and your writing live H.E.A.

LINKING THE ARTS

Kay Nielsen lithograph for “The Twelve Dancing Princesses”

An Author I Love

Neil Gaiman writes modern fairy tales for grown-ups and savvy kids.

A Good Word

From Philip Pullman’s introduction to Fairy Tales and the Brothers Grimm, Penguin Classics 2012

celerity: brisk, swift, rapid. As in the pacing of a traditional fairy tale.

WRITING THE VIGNETTE FURTHER THOUGHTS

Posted on January 16, 2014 by writ7707 Posted in Art and Writing, Character Sketch, Literary Genres, The Writing Life, The Writing Muse, Writing, Writing Inspiration, Writing Moment to Moment, Writing Muse, Writing the Vignette, Writing What You See 2 Comments

A WRITING BLOG About Playing Around with a Story Line in Different Literary Genres and Different Literary Categories

Writing Leap #34

Hi Writers,

Are you ever walking or talking or sitting on a train and your mind alights on a writing idea? It hovers there, a sparrow touching down on a telephone line, apt to fly off at any moment. Grab it! (Apologies and gratitude to the wonderful former U.S Poet Laureate Billy Collins whose metaphor this is. I’m so sorry I can’t find the poem for an exact quote.)

But the essence of the poem is a part of my writing self. Write down your impressions and reactions as they are happening. Otherwise as Billy Collins implies the sparrow will probably fly away forever. Gone, swoosh.

Later the spontaneity of the thought will have vanished. Or you will be growling because you can’t remember any of it. Just that it was great.

I carry a small journal and my cell phone to jot down ideas. Later these small jottings can turn into vignettes. Writing vignettes is great writing practice. Just for the sake of writing them. Writers write and edit. As much as possible.

From The Book of Literary Terms by Lewis Turco. “The vignette is a finely written literary sketch emphasizing character, situation or scene.”

So writers, tackle the vignette!

The story line is: What does chocolate evoke in you? Fiction or Non-fiction.

Here’s mine. A vignette inspired by the painting below and something I jotted down. While eating a chocolate truffle as pictured above. Let’s watch Becca.

Oh, how Becca loved chocolate bars. The extra dark velvet kind. Thick and smooth in her mouth. Just sweet enough.

“Afternoon Becca,”

Becca nodded at the old lady, bundled up in three threadbare coats. Her legs were wrapped in scarves and she was settled on a broken chair outside the door of Mr. Palkowski’s newspaper shop.

Becca pushed open the door to the shop. The loud bell on the door made a jangly, jarring noise . She jerked back. She always did.

“Hi there Becca. What can I do for you today?” Mr. Palkowski said.

“Um, not sure. Just want to look, thank you,” she said.

“Right,” he said, and turned his back to fuss with something behind the counter.

Becca grabbed a small chocolate bar from a box on the shelf opposite the counter and slipped it in her pocket.

“Bye Mr. Palkowski. Nothing today.”

There was no avoiding nodding again at the old lady outside.

“You take care now, Becca,” she said.

Becca started to hurry home.

“Wait,” the old lady called. “Think about this. What are you really hungry for? It’s not chocolate dearie.”

Becca kept walking. That lady was crazy.

Mr. Palkowski stepped outside his store. He watched Becca turn the corner.

“Well Minna. That’s about the tenth time now. I haven’t got the heart to say something to her, poor child.”

“You want my opinion?” Minna said. “You are doing her no favors letting her get away with stealing. No favors at all.”

“Hmmmmm,” he said and went back inside.

When Becca reached her stoop she peeled the paper off the chocolate bar and ate the whole thing. She made sure to put the wrappings in the trashcan in front of her building. She wasn’t going to add to the garbage on the sidewalk.

Becca really did know what she was hungry for. She was hungry for her mama’s chocolate cookies. Her mama used to make them for her a lot. Mama didn’t make them now. If she did, Becca thought, the cookie dough would be full of Mama’s tears.

Next afternoon after school Becca pushed open the door to the news shop. Jangle, jangle. Her heart began to flutter in her chest.

“Afternoon Becca,” Mr. Palkowski said. “Ummmm, now look here. I’ve been thinking. I could use a little help around here, straightening up the stock and such. Would your mother let you do that for about an hour after school? I could pay you a little or you could take it out in merchandise. Like chocolate bars.”

Becca stared. He knew. He knew and he was still being nice to her. She fought back tears and let herself hug him.

Here’s to vignettes and your jottings!

LINKING THE ARTS

A Painting

Homeless

My inspiration for Minna

A Poem

“Lines Lost Among Trees,” in Billy Collins collection, Picnic, Lightning

A Good Word

Jot As in to write quickly in the moment