Dear Reader,
If you’ve been perusing these blogs over the years, you have pretty much figured out that we Ascribe writers are always keen to flex our writing muscles. That there are all sorts of opportunities for writing exercises – if you keep your eyes and mind open.
The opportunities I’ve had for practicing what I call guerilla writing forays have come from the most mundane moments: riding the bus to work; crossing a street in an unfamiliar city; hearing an exchange while standing in line in the bank; walking up rickety steep stairs in an old lighthouse. I’m sure you have had similar “aha!” moments where you think, ‘ I want to describe this experience, or that little scene would add to a story….’
Well, I had another one today.
I was at an outdoor music concert – jazz, as it happens this time – just relaxing with friends, taking in the serene blue sky, the friendly crowd chill and happily looking forward to the next couple of hours of musical entertainment.
Next thing I know, I’m assessing the situation in terms of a writing exercise!
See, the urge to write never leaves for long, no matter where I am or what I’m doing. There’s always this compulsion to seek out a scrap of paper and a pen and start scribbling down impressions of what I’m experiencing. Something that might be useful in a story down the line.
I did it again tonight.
This is not to say the music wasn’t great; it was. This is not to say I was bored; I wasn’t.
Apropos of nothing, I found myself starting a mental writing exercise: “describe what you can hear, see and feel at this specific moment:” I dug in my purse, found a pen and a crumpled receipt, and started to write.
The murmer of the crowd mingled with the jazzy-blues song the band was playing. A seagull keening overhead as it circled above me, framed by a pure cloudless blue sky. I slid off my sandals and felt the stubble of recently mown grass under my feet. A breeze came in off the bay, refreshingly cool after the heat of an August afternoon in the sun. The woman beside me laughed at something her partner had leaned over and spoken quietly in her ear. An old man with a stooped back passed in front of me carrying a blue camp chair. I noticed he had a dark tan and wondered if he had come to shore from one of the boats out in the bay to hear the concert… an old woman with suspiciously black hair followed after him carrying a red folding chair and a large ice cream with a sugar cone. She smelled like coconut sunscreen as she passed in front of me….
You get the idea. The moment has been captured, a Polaroid snapshot from words….
