writing the vignette Archives - Writing Like a Dancer

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

To all my email subscribers. Click on THE VIGNETTE above to view complete blog with color.

Playing Around with a Story Line in Different Literary Genres

Hey Writers and Readers,

Writing Leap #14 The Vignette

In The Book of Literary Terms, Lewis Turco defines a vignette as, “A finely written literary sketch emphasizing character, situation or scene.”

For me, vignettes have endless possibilities. They are deeply impressionistic, like a Monet painting that startles you into the moment. With a trimming down of words vignettes float gracefully, like Isadora Duncan’s dance.

In my vignette, Tiffanys, the struggle for me was to avoid cliche. No generic characters. The way I try to do this with my characters is to imagine them in the setting I am creating. I feel what they are feeling, not what I might be feeling.

I thought about Dougie and Addy a lot before I started writing my vignette. Scribbled notes about them. What were they doing, going through, in other parts of their lives? At moments I really became them. Then they just started talking in their own voice, right there in Tiffanys. I stepped back and I/they wrote it down.

Vignettes are fun. So writers, go ahead and try your own! What’s helpful for me to remember is–Aim for Impressionistic.

The Story Line is

When We Discover Something That Sparkles

Here’s mine.

No Power in the apartment for eight days. Surely icicles were forming on his long, gangly eighty-seven year old bones. Walking helped. He needed to take a break from his sister-in-law’s place. She chittered and chattered nonstop like some cawing crow. But at least Addy was warm there.

He walked as briskly as his swollen knees allowed, all the way up Fifth Avenue, not caring a fig that he looked ridiculous in his floppy fur-lined hunter’s hat, given to him by the Red Cross Worker. Bless the earflaps. He felt his cold, gray mustache, the only thing on his face that showed.

Since his retirement awhile back Douglas Moody avoided subways. After fifty-six years of driving them in dark, dank underground passages it was light he craved–especially anything that sparkled and dazzled. On an impulse he pushed through the revolving door of Tiffanys and he felt a thrill ripple through him. An astonishing, large yellow diamond set in clusters of white diamonds glistened in its own case smack in his line of vision.

Oh, he’d walked around Tiffanys before to drink in the brilliance of the rubies, emeralds, sapphires. But this? He turned and left. As fast as he was able he walked back to get Addy. He wanted her to see this. He wanted to see it together with her.

“But I can’t walk that far Dougie, can I” Douglas helped her on with her coat while she insisted on buttoning it. She pulled on the thick Red Cross ski hat with the pom-pom. She pushed some of the gray wisps of hair under the hat and put her weight on her cane. She looked absolutely adorable, Douglas thought. Addy was round and one and a half times his width. She came up to his shoulder. His wifey for sixty-four years. They walked back to Tiffanys and their excitement helped them along.

The mesmerizing yellow diamond flickered with brilliance.

“Oh my. Oh my stars.” Addy put her hand on her heart. The sign read 128.54 carots. Douglas slipped his hand in hers. They moved closer together and leaned over the case with the yellow diamond, set off as a necklace by smaller white diamonds that shimmered.

Addy whispered, “The sparkle is reflecting off your glasses, Dougie. I’ve never felt beauty like this.”

“It does have a way of getting to you,” Douglas said, putting his arm around her.

Dollar signs never entered their minds. They went straight to the magic of their closeness that the beauty of the diamond was stirring up in them.

“I love you Addy.”

“I love you too Dougie.”

They said this to each other a lot. But in Tiffanys? Now that’s something, Douglas thought.

They left by the side entrance on 57th street to avoid any mishaps in the revolving door.

“Careful on these steps now Addy.”

“I’ve got it Dougie. I’ve got it.”

***

So Writers, Let the story line sparkle your wonderful imagination and write a vignette–like the Impressionists painted, impression by impression.

Happy Creative Moments,

LINKING THE ARTS

A Favorite Book

The remarkable Eudora Welty’s One Writer’s Beginnings includes a vignette about a certain Miss Duling.

A Good Word

Astonish In the sense of taking your breath away. To be used sparingly, only when it is truly warranted as in one’s reaction to the Tiffany Yellow Diamond! Otherwise “astonish” will lose it’s zing.

Works of Art

The Tiffany Yellow Diamond