[stylist] Writing exercise- external descriptions

[Andi]

I'll bight to...

     The city streets were crowded with people going about their day.
Tourists alternated between looking in awe at different sights and staring
in confusion at paper maps.  Shopping bags dangled from fast moving arms.
Men in business suits carried their dress shoes and briefcases while
sporting jogging shoes as they hurried to catch busses and trains.  High
heals clicked quickly as women in skirt suits raced after the same public
transportation modes.  Taxi cab drivers honked impatiently while weaving
dangerously through traffic.  A loud boom box permeated the air as two
teenage boys and a girl performed a brake dance routine on a sidewalk.
Street venders served up hot dogs and tacos to paying customers.  The whole
atmosphere had an air of movement,  nothing was still, not even the
buildings as revolving doors whirled and people moved past windows.  

Andi
-----Original Message-----
From: stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On
Behalf Of Bridgit Pollpeter
Sent: Friday, April 27, 2012 1:51 PM
To: stylist at nfbnet.org
Subject: [stylist] Writing exercise- external descriptions

Okay, I just can't stay away, LOL! I did this exercise and found it fun,
plus, one single sentence I added in gave me a story idea with this simple
exercise. Funny how these things work, grin.
 
Try writing descriptions of people and places without internal narration.
Use scenic development and external characterization in order to
characterize people and places. Keep it in the active voice and do not
describe feelings and thoughts unless it can be done with external
descriptions.
 
For example: Jack was angry. He was upset about Kelly breaking up with him.
Instead: Jack threw his phone across the room. His features contorting,
witnessing Kelly leave hand-in-hand with her new boyfriend.
 
Here's my attempt:
 
The black Beemer slid into the parking spot like a hand in a glove.
Opening the door, her slender limbs cascaded like silk, revealing a tall,
young woman. Her legs spoke of a summer at the beach, and the white
mini-skirt and periwinkle wedge heels accentuated her relationship with the
gym.

 

A warm late summer breeze jostled the loose, brunette curls framing the
feminine contours of her face. Mirrored sunglasses hid her eyes only
reflecting the sprawling one-story, red brick building ahead. She catwalked
down the path clutching a dog-eared copy of The Great Gatsby while a Chanel
bag swung back-and-forth on her shoulder.

 

People took time to glance in her direction, some even observing every
detail of the young woman. Oblivious of it all, she strode forward, a
stranger to her own vivacious appeal.

 

Checking the time on her IPhone, the mirrored glasses searched around the
yard revealing young people standing and sitting around on benches and
tables nestled around a park-like setting. Palm trees shaded gossiping
girls; boys threw Frisbees to one another while some leaned against the hood
of cars smoking, trying to affecta casual James Dean appearance. Cement
paths criss-crossed creating a chessboard-like tableau of cement and grass
squares. With more silken movements, she glided onto a table bench. Pushing
loose curls away from her face, she propped on her elbows, The Great Gatsby
open in front of her. Long, graceful fingers turned pages as each one was
read in silence.

 

The yard popped with noise as people laughed and talked in designer uniforms
similar to what draped her lithe limbs. The scene appeared like a high-end
fashion commercial-- DKNY, Ralph Lauren, Burberry, Louis Vuitton, Stella
McCartney, Versace-a Who's Who of fashion designers spread in couture
palettes across the yard. Music danced from luxury cars and portable devices
mingling among people and objects.

 

The world buzzed around her, a sea of noise and color. A shimmering sheen
coating it all except the young woman stuck in brilliant clarity.
She sat alone, the single solitary figure like an Island among the bustling
world. In grossed in her book, the commotion didn't seem to exist in her
silent realm.

 
Sincerely,
Bridgit Kuenning-Pollpeter
Read my blog at:
 <http://blogs.livewellnebraska.com/author/bpollpeter/>
http://blogs.livewellnebraska.com/author/bpollpeter/
 
"History is not what happened; history is what was written down."
The Expected One- Kathleen McGowan
 
_______________________________________________
Writers Division web site:
http://www.nfb-writers-division.net <http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>

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