100 Days of Writing - 18
My dog gets all freaked out when I sit down to write. I'm not sure if it's because I have my back to the room or if it's she can sense A GENIUS AT WORK. Ha.
I'm finding this 100 Day Challenge I've given myself to be super helpful in terms of practice. I rarely exercise the creative writer in me and enjoy the comfort zone of journaling and putting personal essays online. Look I'm doing it again.
I've written a lot of monologues and a couple of scripts, but generally tend to avoid ensemble writing, or multiple points of view. I also get intimidated by trying to advance a story based on everybody's wants and forget about acts. Basically I have no idea what I'm doing but it feels great to work through this awkwardness and let the creative writer in me grow.
***
Margaret stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was covered in a Moroccan mud mask, imported on a whim after reading about it in Glamour magazine. It smelled like roses and was beginning to clay when her phone buzzed.
It was Carlos, texting her to say thanks for the second date. "Interesting," she thought to herself. They had gone out for coffee 2 days ago, so she was uncertain what this text meant. It was a decent enough date, he rambled on about working with older men getting back on their feet and carrying tools up and down multiple flights of stairs. She enjoyed the distraction from her otherwise boring day and evaluated her ability to tolerate his company.
The marriage conversation had been tabled this time, and instead it appeared Carlos might be interested in the traditional dating route with her.
After a few minutes, Margaret responded to the text. "No problem," she wrote. "Wanna do it again?"
Type dots rolled over the screen, he was about to respond. "Sure."
"Sure, period." Margaret wondered if Carlos' interest was waning. Then she remembered she had no idea what she was doing. Technically this was the first man she'd dated in nearly 2 years. It all was feeling anticlimactic, already.
She'd grown used to being on her own, enjoying her oxygenated home full of ferns. How many coffee dates would it take to make a decision about this guy? Was there even a decision to be made? What's the etiquette? She decided to snatch the opportunity and boldly go where her love life had never gone before... Ripley's Aquarium.
"Saturday - aquarium, yes?"
"Fun."
"Great, meet you there at 8. It's jazz night."
Margaret threw her phone down onto her bed and felt a burst of excitement that caught her by surprise. She smiled and felt her mud mask begin to crumble. It suddenly felt like a real date.
***
Mabel,
Katie
I'm finding this 100 Day Challenge I've given myself to be super helpful in terms of practice. I rarely exercise the creative writer in me and enjoy the comfort zone of journaling and putting personal essays online. Look I'm doing it again.
I've written a lot of monologues and a couple of scripts, but generally tend to avoid ensemble writing, or multiple points of view. I also get intimidated by trying to advance a story based on everybody's wants and forget about acts. Basically I have no idea what I'm doing but it feels great to work through this awkwardness and let the creative writer in me grow.
***
Margaret stared at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was covered in a Moroccan mud mask, imported on a whim after reading about it in Glamour magazine. It smelled like roses and was beginning to clay when her phone buzzed.
It was Carlos, texting her to say thanks for the second date. "Interesting," she thought to herself. They had gone out for coffee 2 days ago, so she was uncertain what this text meant. It was a decent enough date, he rambled on about working with older men getting back on their feet and carrying tools up and down multiple flights of stairs. She enjoyed the distraction from her otherwise boring day and evaluated her ability to tolerate his company.
The marriage conversation had been tabled this time, and instead it appeared Carlos might be interested in the traditional dating route with her.
After a few minutes, Margaret responded to the text. "No problem," she wrote. "Wanna do it again?"
Type dots rolled over the screen, he was about to respond. "Sure."
"Sure, period." Margaret wondered if Carlos' interest was waning. Then she remembered she had no idea what she was doing. Technically this was the first man she'd dated in nearly 2 years. It all was feeling anticlimactic, already.
She'd grown used to being on her own, enjoying her oxygenated home full of ferns. How many coffee dates would it take to make a decision about this guy? Was there even a decision to be made? What's the etiquette? She decided to snatch the opportunity and boldly go where her love life had never gone before... Ripley's Aquarium.
"Saturday - aquarium, yes?"
"Fun."
"Great, meet you there at 8. It's jazz night."
Margaret threw her phone down onto her bed and felt a burst of excitement that caught her by surprise. She smiled and felt her mud mask begin to crumble. It suddenly felt like a real date.
***
Mabel,
Katie
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