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Why I Write
When I write, I draw on my experiences as a woman with a painful past, a rapturous wife and mother, a world traveler, and a spiritualist. For me, writing is an art form. Like an artist, the work becomes more than I imagined it would be. When I set out to write a story with a particular idea or character in mind, words I cannot claim as my own flow from a magical and mysterious place through me and onto paper. The work takes on a life of its own; it is living art. The process fascinates me, satiates me, and makes my life more meaningful.
Please read my stories! If you would like to offer me feedback on my work, please click here and sign up for a free membership: https://heftynicki.Writing.com
I hope to see you there!
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Blog, Blog, Blog #721817 added April 8, 2011 at 9:49am
Restrictions: None
'G' is for...?
Welcome to 'G' Day at my blog! Those who have visited during the A-Z Blogfest know that my off-site cyber-BFF Jessica Bell and I are writing partners. Before the fest began, we generated a list of 26 words -- nouns the are emotions/feelings/states of mind. Each day we work from the same prompt word, and write fictional paragraphs with characters who 'show' the emotion/etc. My 'G' entry is below. After you read it, guess in the comments what emotion/etc. I've depicted.
(Btw, yesterday's word was 'Frustration.'  )
Without further ado, here is my offering of the day:
Franklin pressed his stubbled cheek against the upstairs front bedroom windowpane, like he used to do when he was a kid and wanted to see farther up the street than normal view allowed. The sun was right overhead but the mailman was still out of sight. He skipped to the computer desk where the package routing screen confirmed delivery was today at noon. He refreshed the page, but the info didn’t change. A grin cracked his face and his stomach did another airy flip.
He wandered to the mirror. First, he struck a regal pose; one Mr. Albert Einstein might have struck for a photographer. Then he hunched his shoulders, bringing his hands in front and curling his fingers like claws. He snickered like a mad scientist, and the crazed look in his eyes was so convincing he broke out into his normal, jovial laughter.
Down on the street, the shrill sound of brakes sounded. Franklin brought his watch to his face. Twelve-oh-two! He ran out the bedroom door with the vigor of a child, grinning from ear to ear. If he’d have dared, he’d have ridden the banister to the foyer. Down the steps raced, excitement tickling him from the inside out, heart pounding. He reached for the knob just as the doorbell sounded.
Any guesses? And if you'd like to read Jessica's entry, here's the LINK 
Thanks for reading!! |
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