Exercise #172 : Ending
A short story begins with these two lines:
Sometimes, out on the boat, she wanted to tell Louise.
This was before Louise got the tattoo on her shoulder.
This was before Louise got the tattoo on her shoulder.
Write the last paragraph of the story.
END
I finished this one on well under 5 minutes, but I feel like I got my point across. Plus, the exercise only asked for a single paragraph, right? As far as I'm concerned, I'm good to go here.
Moving on...
As if last week couldn't have gotten any better, Summer from over at My Inner Fairy extended the "One Lovely Blog" Award, and I just about died. :) Yay! Thanks so much, Summer!
For my purposes, this "she" is going to go by the name of Eleanor.
1,2,3, GO!
It had been a trying year, with money gained, friends lost, and then money lost. The question that lingered on both of their minds was if, in the end, it had been worth it. For Eleanor, her growth was obviously visible. She was coming into her own, forming into the person she had always wanted to be, and life seemed to be heading down the right track. Finally, things were looking up.
And all Louise had to show for it was that damned tattoo.
END
I finished this one on well under 5 minutes, but I feel like I got my point across. Plus, the exercise only asked for a single paragraph, right? As far as I'm concerned, I'm good to go here.
Moving on...
As if last week couldn't have gotten any better, Summer from over at My Inner Fairy extended the "One Lovely Blog" Award, and I just about died. :) Yay! Thanks so much, Summer!
The rules require me to pick 15 other blogs that I have just come to know in the recent past, and, being that I've recently garnered quite a few more blogs to add to my blog reading list, I'm going to take the rest of this week and the weekend to wade through them all and pick 15 of them that are deserving. It's going to be so hard only picking 15! I may fudge and pick a few more than that... Shh... Don't tell!
So what did you guys come up with for this exercise? I'm absolutely loving all of your submissions to the "Make It Up Monday" contest. My family and I are going to have an incredibly difficult time picking out a winner. Keep it up, though! I love that you're getting involved with my posts and sharing with me. It's what writing is all about, after all!
So what did you guys come up with for this exercise? I'm absolutely loving all of your submissions to the "Make It Up Monday" contest. My family and I are going to have an incredibly difficult time picking out a winner. Keep it up, though! I love that you're getting involved with my posts and sharing with me. It's what writing is all about, after all!
In other news, school starts tomorrow. Hip hip huzzah for it being my last year as an undergrad student! That being said, however, my amount of posts may decrease to 3-5 times per week instead of daily because of schoolwork and rehearsals for the fall opera (I have a lead role!!), but don't expect that to start right away. The fall semester always tends to take a couple of weeks to get going. I'm only taking 14 hours which is lovely, considering that in previous semesters I've taken no less than 18 (once over 20!). And honestly 4 of those hours don't really count, because I'm taking beginning French this semester.
For those of you who don't know already, I speak French. Perhaps not fluently, but I am definitely capable of maneuvering my way around Paris without the aid of a guide or a French-to-English dictionary. I could have taken an advanced class, but... meh. I need an easy class this semester, because I'm taking a few others that are going to be taxing. For example, one class named Form & Analysis (dubbed F'n'A) is all about the analysis of scores ranging from sonatas to concertos, etc... Aka this class is evil in learning form.
Don't get me wrong. I love learning. I absolutely adore sitting in a comfy chair and garnering all of the information possible from a book or person. But there's just something about music theory that makes me want to gouge my eyes out with a spoon.
Lord, give me strength!
Well, I'm off! Must get some shut eye before my 9am class tomorrow.
Peace.
Stef.
Comments
Great ending, by the way. Loved the last line.
All I ever learned in French was 'Je suis desole pour je suis en retarde madame' and I'm not even sure about that any more!
Luck with the music theory. COUNT!
wow supper
This was before Louise got the tattoo on her shoulder. She wanted to tell Louise about the trip was thinking about taking next summer, but for some reason Eleanor could not take her eyes off of the tattoo on her shoulder. Finally Eleanor spoke out, "Why did you want a tattoo? Louise smiled as she replied, "Well I don't really know why. I just wanted to do something that I could be proud about, and this tattoo reminds me of a dear friend to me. Eleanop paused for a moment and said; Wait I'm you're only friend? Louises' laughter echoed over the lake as she took Eleanor by the hand and spoke; Yes! you are my best friend and I know you better then you know yourself. I know that you been thinking of moving next summer to fullfill your dream of becoming a journalist. So I got this tattoo for you as my way of saying I love you and to let you know that I will always be thinking of you. Eleanor could not hold back the tears as she graded Louise and spoke 3 little words Louises' ear, "I Love You........"
Thanks(:
"Selfish to the end," she thought. "All of this time I was admiring her courage, her purpose. I wish I had known how angry and lonely she was. I might have told her a long time ago."
She wanted to tell her of the late nights out on the bayou (some in this very boat), filled with stars and lust and sweat. She wanted to tell her of every bad decision, of every moment that should be a regret (but somehow never could be), of every indescretion with the man who wasn't hers. She longed to unleash, to cry out, to scream at the top of her lungs this secret that had been burning inside her troubled mind for far too long! Mostly, though, she wanted redemption; to beg for forgiveness. But looking at her now, dreamy eyed and smiling as the early morning sun cast its glow upon her newly decorated shoulder blade, Maggie knew she could never tell Lousie the truth. She knew her closest friend could never be told of the deceit attached to the name now forever etched upon her body.
You gave me some great ideas, and gave me a very pleasent kick up the butt to keep me thinking that yes i can do it, i can reach my goal.
Hope that you dont mind mentioned you in my last post! pop a long and have a look at I see you see from your truly.
Here goes (continuing with the name Eleanor):
So many times she had thought of telling Louise about Mitch. Now it was too late, if only she had said something when she first found out. Or even later after Louise had tattooed his name onto her shoulder. If she had just said it then she could have saved their friendship and Louise's future.
But now Louise was married to a terrible man and Elenore had lost the closest friend she ever had.
By the way congrats on the award!
This was before Louise got the tattoo on her shoulder. Getting a tattoo was a massive commitment, and unlike marriage it was irreversible. She felt the words ‘Leave him, he’s mental’ would be empty to the woman who had his name emblazoned on her flesh.
I really love reading all of these writing assignments. I think they are fantastic and can definitely help you become a better writer. I recently saw an interview with Elizabeth Gilbert (the author of Eat, Pray, Love) and she was saying that the only sure way to becoming a better writer is practicing, practicing, practicing. She said to write about anything, at any time throughout the day... I think that's the approach you're taking! Also, I watched your music videos on youtube and am quite impressed. You have a gorgeous voice. Seems like you have a bit too much talent, my dear!
She wanted to tell Louise, the real family secret, that the woman she had always called auntie Thelma was really her mother. But Eleanor had promised to her own mother, that she would bring the secret to the grave. And when Louise sported that awful tattoo, Eleanor knew her step-sister did not need another shock to rock her already confused, chaotic, dangerously close to crime young life. Besides, now that auntie Thelma had passed, there was no reason to bring out old skeletons.
I did want to let you know that I've altered my blog you're following to reflect more than I'd originally intended. Hope you like it!
Music theory? Lead in a opera? How fun it all sounds...
Since shameless plugs are allowed I'm @ www.shhpadywriting.blogspot.com (don't post as often as I'd like to, but I try...)
"With the afternoon unravelling all around her, Elanor didn’t think there was anything left to lose. Now, in the middle of the lake, was as good a time and place as any to confess the truth, what did she have left to lose? After years of mulling, Eleanor decided to tell Louise – they were not sisters. But as Louise rolled up her sleeve, Eleanor decided to not tell her after all, what good would it do? The tattoo, it seemed, looked like a bigger testament to their relationship than the truth…"
This was before Louise got the tattoo on her shoulder."
She walked away from the boat knowing that she would never see Louise again. People used to refer to the two of them as Thelma and Louise; that was when they were inseparable. She just knew that Louise could never get over herself enough to accept that her best friend was going to have a baby. That tattoo was a major indicator that Louise could never let her be a straight woman in a heterosexual relationship... it is better that Louisa never know.
Okay, so that is my very first of your writing exercises! Kind of fun! And, I can say I got a little creative writing in at the same time!
Good luck with school! I love to learn as well, but there are some of those classes that just seem to be a pointless waist of time and money.
Oh, and congrats on your lead role in an opera! I love opera, and would love to see it! Break a leg! ha!
http://waitingontheworldtochangeithinknot.blogspot.com/
Through her summer browned bare feet that were pressed against the balcony rails, and through the rough wood's uneven gaps, her eyes rested without blinking on the small wooden boat roped to the dock. There wasn't a whisper of wind, and the boat was as still as the water was flat. She sipped the strong, but now less than hot coffee as she rocked on the back two legs of the deck chair. The rain was so soft it was invisible, making it oddly no-where and everywhere at the same time. Her loose summer clothes and hair were already damp. The loon's call echoed in her heart Louise's absence, even as the poorly stowed oars avowed her presence. And the tattoo. That mute, dumb, dumbing tattoo!
That was too tempting. Now I only have to find out what happened inbetween. A #FridayFlash, maybe?
This was before Louise got the tattoo on her shoulder.
But now it was too late. Louise was gone. I remember when she told me she was thinking of getting one. We argued about it, "You're too young!" I said. She shot back, "I'm sixteen! I can make my own decisions!" My daughter, a mirror of myself. Strong, opinionated and determined. "I'm prouf of you baby. I alwas have been, even though you don't think so." Sadly, Louise never got to hear those words. She died in a car accident a few days after our argument and her "tatoo excursion".
Write the last paragraph of the story.