Tagged: shoes

Were He a Commoner

  • k-avatara bonny lord and a merry one
  • under the eyes
  • grinned involuntarily with appreciation
  • blue-gray eyes suddenly keen
  • would have been described as stocky

Were he a commoner, Smedley would have been described as stocky. But he was a bonny lord and a merry one, often at the same time, and so he was accounted robust of stature.

Smedley’s position at court afforded many luxuries. His special favorite was dancers, one in particular with many jingling bells and cymbals and tattoos under the eyes. When she swayed and twirled before him, Smedley grinned involuntarily with appreciation for her grace and flexibility, which a, shall we say, stocky personage might view in more frankly vulgar terms.

One gusty winter night a new dancer appeared before Smedley. He sat forward in his chair, blue-gray eyes suddenly keen. The newcomer’s feet were just as nimble, howsoever they might be clad in perplexing low boots that set up a clattering like hailstones with her every step. The cane and the straw hat confused Smedley most of all.

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It Wasn’t Long Before Bernard Fell Under Suspicion

  • by jenmass
  • punishments
  • suspicion

It wasn’t long before Bernard fell under suspicion. He attended mass with Father Mulcahey on the Sunday in question. He had a criminal past. His boots were found in the garbage can, caked with mud.

Bernard maintained his innocence, claiming the Father was just a good friend from way back. And as for his record, well he’d taken his punishments, paid his fees!

He couldn’t explain the boots though, and was quickly lynched by the angry mob.

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Francine’s Toes Hurt

  1. by jenCharacter – South American cannibal
  2. Setting – submarine
  3. Object – lucky rabbit’s foot
  4. Situation – new shoes today

Francine’s toes hurt. The new “sensible” shoes were worse than her old heels.

Stopping her pacing, Francine leaned against the wall of the submarine passageway and felt the faint vibration. They would be in Caracas soon.

Francine rubbed her lucky rabbit’s foot and thought about what it would be like to be reunited with Stanley after all this time.

The mix-up, last time, had been unbelievable but understandable. Stanley and Ngegue looked exactly the same. Still it was embarrassing to explain to both the Bridge Club and Stanley’s mother that she had mistaken a South American cannibal for her own husband.

No matter. Everything was about to be put right. Ngegue would go back to his tribe, Stanley and Francine would return to the State Department.

Francine wondered, though, whether Stanley would ever live up to Ngegue’s performance in the sack.

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Jerome Hung His Pompadoured Head in Shame

  1. by jenCharacter – Elvis impersonator
  2. Setting – prison
  3. Object – engagement ring
  4. Situation – unplanned amputation

Jerome hung his pompadoured head in shame. He was no longer fit to wear the spangly jumpsuit. He’d have to sell his collection of blue suede shoes to pay for his lawyer. It was either that or Lola’s pretty pink engagement ring, and he could never do that to her. Any woman who could overlook what he did was worth her weight in bacon. If only Lola’s mother hadn’t reached for the sandwich just as he was about to cut it…

Well, at least he’d get the chance to perfect his “Jailhouse Rock” dance routine. Hopefully the other inmates would be understanding.

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Weasel Stomping Boots

We all have our particular words that we tend to overuse. When writing in tandem with a partner, the weasel-word list can be twice as large.

In our partnership we have a system for keeping this issue under control. We have an actual list to work from and we use the software’s find function to track them down. Here’s the clever bit: we color-code them throughout the text so they jump out. That way we can skim through the manuscript watching for clumps. This is something we do together in real-time, so we can discuss whether to keep or stomp each weasel as we go. It would probably work out all right to divvy up the work, but we like the double-team approach for this particular aspect of the revision process.

Most of our weasels are qualifiers — almost, just, seem, appear, etc. — but we also use our color-coding technique to help us spot passive voice and repetitive sentence structures. It’s a great way of prompting yourself to really see how you’re using words, encouraging an analytical reading mode rather than getting drawn into your own story or glazing over because it’s all so familiar.

In our writing, and in work we review for our critique group, we have noticed a tendency to adopt pet words. These pets are generally not weasels (because who would want a pet weasel?), just regular words that get stuck in the writer’s head for whatever reason, and wind up on the page an inordinate number of times in a passage. BTW – “inordinate” was a pet word we encountered at one time.

With a writing partner, you have two sets of fingers creating the pet words, but you also have two sets of eyes and ears looking out for them. For us, that’s a beneficial trade-off.

What herd of weasels do you have to wrangle? How do you go after them?

Setting Prompt

During October we will be sharing passages that we’ve written independently from the same prompt.

Today we have a different kind of prompt, the setting/picture prompt. A member of our critique group brought this in for us all to try.

Here is the inspiration photo we were provided:

Lava Rocks

Kent’s Take

Evans knew he could trust Smith. He inched backwards down the sheer face, his safe descent relying on Smith to hang on to the other end of the rope because the weather-beaten basalt was too hard to drive in belaying pins.

Evans actually felt he had the better half of the job, because soon now his progress would take him into precious shade. Smith had to bake in the cruel desert sun at the edge of the drop.

It did take skill and concentration to place his feet, choosing spots between the vertical ridges of eroded lava-rock, where the folds of this infernal theatre curtain couldn’t trap his boots. He could feel the heat through his gloves, through the thick soles of his boots. The glove was becoming threadbare from gripping the abrasive stone to keep himself from swinging, so as not to fray the rope.

If his theory was right, then at the lowest point in the chasm he would see fossils, imprints of life that thrived in magma.

Finally, shade.

And then, weightlessness and swirling fear.

Smith had theories of his own.

 

Jen’s Take

by jenThe Monsters of Rock play Red Rocks

The members of Metallica regretted their experimentation with Japanese radiation the minute they grew too large for their tour bus. Luckily, in their enhugened state, the walk from Los Angeles to Denver took only half an hour.

Lars Ulrich was the first to straddle the peaks of the Rocky Mountains, and he looked around in wonder. Darkness was only just beginning to creep up from the horizon, and Lars shielded his eyes from the sun’s last rays. Below him the mountains jutted, rough primeval and snow-capped. To the east, Lars caught his first glimpse of the amphitheater nestled as it was among the peaks. The ruddy, rusty stones that gave it its name looked warm and inviting, but Lars knew they were no warmer than any of the surrounding grey rocks. The parking lot was alive with tiny moving dots of many colors, but Lars could hear nothing but the rush of icy wind around his head and the occasional roar of a passing jet.

James and the others joined Lars at last and together the Monsters of Rock gazed down upon their fans, wondering where they would find instruments large enough to play.

 

What do you think? Who handled this prompt better?

Flew Back To Colorado Springs

During October we will be sharing passages that we’ve written independently from the same prompt.

  • flew back to Colorado Springs
  • teaches him all a beggar’s tricks
  • redwood does not decay
  • supposed to be in stock in San Jose
  • date with a mulatto gal

Kent’s Take

Rick flew back to Colorado Springs for a date with a mulatto gal who teaches him all a beggar’s tricks. And he took my sandals, because redwood does not decay when exposed to even his vitriolic foot sweat. I still don’t have replacement sandals, because I’m a triple-E. But my size is supposed to be in stock in San Jose.

 

Jen’s Take

by jenRedwood does not decay. That’s the whole point. That’s what makes it so perfect for constructing lawn furniture. But of course, the set I wanted was out of stock at my local Ikea. It was supposed to be in stock in San Jose, though, so I flew out there to get it. Because redwood does not decay.

So, of course, they don’t have it in San Jose either. Someone bought the last one right before I got there. They gave me a free bag of Swedish meatballs for my trouble. I wish I was one of those guys whose dad teaches him all a beggar’s tricks so that I could have gotten more than the meatballs and a date with a mulatto gal out of the trip. But I’m not. My dad only taught me about fishing.

Anyway, after that I flew back to Colorado Springs and my plane was late due to fog at O’Hare. And that’s why I missed work yesterday. Honest.

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What do you think? Who handled this prompt better?

Cecelia Opened the Door

  • by jensomething else inside that boy’s head
  • the Upright Man’s precious cargo
  • the reality of Paul’s shoes
  • the fir tree smelled
  • felt indecently robust
  • I thought you were in Africa
  • a large number of plastic crates

Cecelia opened the door and saw Paul standing on her front porch amid a large number of plastic crates.

“I thought you were in Africa!” she cried and gave him a hug.

“I was.” He gestured to the crates. “The Upright Man’s precious cargo proved easy to retrieve.”

Cecelia invited her brother inside and waited for him to remove his shoes. The reality of Paul’s shoes is that they were of a highly complicated design and it took a long time for him to unfasten them. She gave up waiting and went to make them some coffee. By the time Paul joined her in the kitchen, the coffee felt indecently robust on the tongue.

They carried their mugs into the living room and sat by the Christmas tree, watching the lights blink on and off. The fir tree smelled like freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. It was one of the new genetic hybrids. But Paul didn’t even seem to notice.

There must be something else inside that boy’s head besides the holidays, Cecelia thought. I wonder where the Upright Man is.

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When My Brother Arrived

  • nothing that would offend meby jen
  • My manservant read to him
  • decorated with red leather stitching
  • and another with lust
  • with a rueful chuckle
  • He abuses your trust
  • annoyed and proud at once

When my brother arrived for his visit he wore the boots decorated with red leather stitching that were his inheritance from our father. He was annoyed and proud at once, for those boots were Father’s most prized possessions, yet were worth very little monetarily when compared to the family estate which was left to me.

My manservant read to him two stories, as he requested, one with daring deeds and another with lust. “But,” my brother said with a rueful chuckle, “nothing that would offend me.”

Once my brother was asleep, my manservant came to me and said, “He abuses your trust. Those are not, in fact, the boots of your father.”

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from the comments, Jen has another take on the same prompt:

“I want to hear a story,” the old priest demanded. “But nothing that would offend me, if you please.”

His request made me feel both annoyed and proud at once, so I had my manservant read to him from the big black book decorated with red leather stitching that has been in my family for countless generations.

Afterwards the priest took me aside to gossip about my manservant. “He abuses your trust,” he said with a rueful chuckle. “I smelled alcohol on his breath. He read one story with vice in it, and another with lust.”

I nodded, secretly pleased that my manservant had done just as I told him.