Trying to find a quick way to summarize work completed so far this week.
WRITING GOAL = 1k. Sun +230. Mon @200.
Tues sick day. Total so far 430.
Memoir = 1K.
No progress.
BLOG = Post x3.
ROW80x2 yes. Insecure Writer's Study Groupx1 yes.
READ BLOGS x5.
No progress.
CRIT Novels_L.
No progress.
Type Allen's
St. Remy.
No progress.
Exercise x4.
No progress.
Quilt x4.
x2 so far.
Study Spanish.
x3 so far.
WRITING CHALLENGE THIS WEEK: Decided to switch my story from third person to first person for more immediacy. Which version is more appealing?
Sandra (and the tapestry) have been kidnapped. She wakes up in a storage room in a large warehouse in East Edinburgh. Opening scene:
THIRD PERSON:
Sandra opened her eyes slowly to total darkness. She blinked but could see nothing.
Where am I? Who were those men? The back of her head throbbed, and something tickled her hand. A spider. She jerked her hand to brush it off, but both hands moved. They had been tied together in front of her.
She squinted in the dark and tried to sit up. She bumped against something.
The tapestry? It had been rolled-up and propped against a wall. She shivered, tried to stand, and then paced off the dimensions of the room.
Twenty steps by twenty steps and bloody cold. Where am I? Sandra used her hands to feel for a door. She found an immense door; its iron handle wouldn’t move.
No surprise there. It’s cold, dark, I can’t see, and I’m hungry. She settled on the floor and leaned against the tapestry.
Well, somebody has to come some time.
FIRST PERSON:
I opened my eyes, but I couldn’t see anything. I moved my head slowly. Side to side. Pain sliced across the back of my head. I opened my eyes wider. Nothing but blackness. I sniffed the air. Musty, damp. Something skittered over my hand. I jerked to brush it off, but both of my hands moved. Someone had tied my hands together. I should be grateful they tied them in front. I brought my hands close to my face, but I couldn’t see anything. I brushed my face over the knots. Could I chew the rope off? I squinted, but I still couldn’t see. I tried to feel the back of my head. Just the edge of a bump. I shivered. I am not going to panic.
The concrete flooring was cold. I pushed myself against the wall and tried to stand up and stumbled over something that had been rolled up and propped against the wall.
The tapestry? My feet hadn’t been bound, so I stood up and paced the length and width of the room.
Twenty steps by twenty steps and bloody cold. I giggled, the sound a surprise in the dark. I felt along the wall for a door. Nothing until I found an immense iron handle.
Would it open? I couldn’t move it. Locked.
It’s cold. I can’t see, and I’m hungry. What else could go wrong? I felt along the wall until I found the tapestry again and slid down to lean against it. After a long time, I closed my eyes.
What happened to Neil?
ROW80: May you have a great week. Click to visit ROW80 HERE on our blog or over on Facebook to catch up on what others are doing. Stay healthy!