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Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.

Monday, May 01, 2006

Serials and Scenarios – Mary and Susan - Swirling Leaves

Happy May Day – the legal ring and run holiday. Not that I know anything about ringing and running.

I asked some authors to add to a couple of story starters (a sentence or two – for the non-writers in the group). Today I want to share two.

Susan Meissner and Mary DeMuth added to the same starter and took it different directions.

I love how creative people think.

I suppose since I focus on dregs, I should come up with some random numbers and give them to mathematics genius (genei? What’s plural for genius?) It’s not fair to leave the logical out, right? Can’t do it… breaking out in…cold sweat. Must stop…thinking about it…now.
Stay tuned…likely for a really long time. Math free site folks.


My story starter is in red italics and their comments are in bold blue.

Susan:
Swirling leaves riding the icy wind, danced up Liesel's skirt. The leaves weren’t the only things stirred up by the breeze which now carried the cloying scent of death.
The tattered pages of the manuscript that lay at the dead man’s feet began to fly about the barn floor. She reached down to grab at them, but a gust of wind snatched them away from her grasp. She ran back to the huge wooden doors, forced her body against them and closed them shut and the papers and leaves settled to the ground in a hush. Liesel knelt down to gingerly peel away a yellowed piece of paper that had plastered itself to her ankle. She carefully turned it over. The printing was smudged in places but she could still make it out. Which meant anyone else could, too, were they to look at it. She grabbed the other pages at her feet, crumpling them into a wad. They would burn quicker that way.
http://susanmeissner.com/

Mary:
Swirling leaves riding the icy wind, danced up Liesel's skirt. The leaves weren’t the only things stirred up by the breeze which now carried the cloying scent of death.
She felt the gun under her skirt, caressed its long handle tucked into her nylons. “That terrible Rolf,” she whispered to herself. “How dare he turn in the Von Trapp family.” She turned the corner. In perfect formation, Rolf stood in the front row of the Young Nazi Brigade, three from the left. She had a perfect shot.
Mary E. DeMuth Blog. Website.

1 comment:

Heather Smith said...

Man, when I was but a youngster, I always thought Liesel should come back and hurt Rolf. He was such a jerk! I'm not alone in my violent thoughts I guess! Great post, Kelly!