I am trying to improve my writing. I am trying to be the very best that I can be. To do that I am reading good books (The Secret Garden was a page turner) and boning up on my descriptive powers. So everywhere I go I try to mentally describe my surroundings and the people I see in them as I would try to write it.
For example:
He shuffled past the stores, head bent, arms limp at his side. His sweater was a merry greeting; his scowl the disclaimer.
Or,
It was as though the hands of time had ravaged her face with little regard to propriety.
Or,
Little hands clawed at the pant leg of the supervising adult too busy to notice his weary eyes and pinched mouth. He drew back his foot, steadied himself and took aim. The resulting cry of pain made him smile.
Now you try it. In the comment section write your best line of description. Why? Because if I have to then so do you.
The juice flooded her mouth in a wave of purple sweetness, staining her dirty fingers with the evidence of her crime. She knew she shouldn’t have plucked it from the master’s tree but the plum’s unspoken promise of forbidden delight pushed aside all of her mother’s warnings. It was worth the whipping she knew would come. She hoped.
There I saw it, the poor and wounded animal, just laying on the side of the gravel road. I knew what I had to do. I hauled the car to a jerky stop and fled the car. I saw the deep cuts and claw marks along it’s side and knew that it’s possible predator could have been a hungry coyote wishing for a home-cooked deer.
Hazel eyes focused uninterrupted on the small screen resting on the table before them. The girl’s brow furrowed with concentration, but her mouth curved upwards into a goofy smile. Beside her, equally laughing, sat a darker haired girl with bright eyes and a freckled nose. The pair were so alike that they could have been sisters, yet they shared no physical resemblance. (My description of Emily and I, before she started eating a candycane)
I love all of them! Isn’t it fun to be creative?
Angela, your challenge is to write MORE!
It’s REALLY fun!
When the little short blonde haired girl Dressed in a plaid shortskirt and a very colorful neon long sleeveshirt came headed toward the big wooden gate with all the mud on her neon shirt and up in the palms of her hands. She wiped her dirty brown-mucky fingers on the brown wooden rusty gate so she could get the mud off, She rubbed her shirt on the wet clean grass that just had been sprinkled. She Hurried to do before her very strict mother saw what she had done to her new outfit. Even though the little blonde six year old hated the outfit she fell in a very gross dark hole full of mud, as she did she rememberd her tall clean always dressed in white srtict mother adored the purple,pink,blue,green neon shirt, and the little plaid miniskirt. The little bobble head six year old new that it was way to old for a young little blonde six year old Sweet Blue-yellowed eyed Girl.
Proboly a little long for a few sentences but oh well -bri
hahaha i need a topic
lol
spaghetti