[stylist] Writing exercise- external descriptions

Barbara Hammel poetlori8 at msn.com
Mon Apr 30 01:40:25 UTC 2012


The playground was perpetual motion.  In the field, two teams of older boys 
were playing baseball.  Little girls wer swinging and singing recognizable 
words to an unknown tune.  Boys and girls were lined up for the slide and 
zooming down every few seconds.  A hopscotch game was in progress.  And 
through it all, threaded a train of of giggling kindergartenenrs.  The noise 
would have been deafening had not it been for the cerulean sky above and the 
red and yellow maple and oak trees that edged this haven of childhood.

Barbara




Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance. -- Carl Sandburg
-----Original Message----- 
From: Bridgit Pollpeter
Sent: Friday, April 27, 2012 12:51 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

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