This weekend I had the opportunity of spending Saturday afternoon with good friends from my writing group. Which was really an exciting thing, since it was the first time we have gotten together since we first formed our group at a writing conference back in April. We've kept in touch through Yahoo Groups, posting messages, chapters, and critiques. But it sure is a lot more enjoyable in person! An even better bonus was we brought our spouses. It was fun to introduce Dustin to people I've talked so much about and to meet their spouses as well! While we were there GG Vandagriff (she's kind of our ring leader, not sure if she realizes that or not!) had us try out a writing exercise, which she recommends doing every day. Yeah, for me I'm thinking of starting small...like once a week? Anyway, I hadn't ever done a writing exercise and the results really surprised me! GG brought out a copy of a Rembrandt painting and told us to just write a story based on that picture. We had 20 min. I stared at it, my mind blank for a few minutes. Then it seemed ideas started flooding in. Needless to say, it was quite a brain surge and was a great way to get my mind going! I thought I'd share what the picture was, and what I ended up coming up with. I definitely learned the benefit of exercising! Writing exercises that is...let's not get carried away!
(Keep in mind this was written quickly in 20 min so, it is literally a rough draft)
The hustle of the court yard covered the sound of her footsteps as she proceeded to the exit. She knew no one would ever know of her deceit, and the thought thrilled her as she grasped the wooden fence before her. Leaning she watched as everyone milled about their day as it were any other day. She spotted the blacksmith across the way and leaned over, hoping to catch a glimpse of his son Edward. She saw him, his dark hair hanging over his forhead, the sweat from the forges gleaming on his brow. Her heart turned within her and she felt the familiar longing. He didn’t notice her. He never did. It was all because of Angeline, her sister. No man could ever move his eyes beyond her angelic face, but she knew it was all about to change. Her sister would never block her path again. She knew Angeline would be leaving soon to the market as her daily ritual, and all the men would gawk, and stare openly. Angry jealousy swelled within her and she clung tighter to the wood. Tuskan had assured her no one would know of their plans. She had saved all the money she could to pay him for his help. He promised Angeline wouldn’t be hurt, but she would never have to see her again. Then Edward would be able to see her, without her sisters glow blinding him. Two girls ran before her giggling and carrying straw dolls. She thought briefly back to a time when Angeline and she had been as close as any two sisters, her conscience panged at the thought, but she snuffed it out just as quickly as it had come. It was too late to change her mind now. There was no going back. A smile curled her lips and she imagined Edwards gaze locked with hers. No, she could never go back. The bell tolled and she cast her eyes anxiously to their home. Her sister emerged looking beautiful in a simple frock.