Attended Great Workshops

I attended a great workshop put on by Press53. One of the workshops in particular really struck a chord for me. It was about using imagery to define time and place. Another one of the ways to show don’t tell as a writer.

After the instructor had talked for a while, she asked us to write a scene.

Here is what I wrote. See if you can tell:

  • about what year it is
  • about how old the main character is
  • where she is

****************

I leaned against the car door. The hot wind whipped the long strands of my hair causing them to slap my face. Johnny Cash droned on from the 8-track as I watched the cornfields continue to roll by. Did you know that if you stare hard and let your eyes grow cross-eyed, the rows of tall faded yellow corn on the side of the road can look like long legs running?

Mommy hit the button and the tape buzzed back to repeat the same song. Daddy twisted the knobs on the CB radio but only static came out.

We had to be getting there soon. I didn’t dare ask when again. Daddy had growled at me to be quiet the last time I asked. In the distance I can see a small town. A water tower and a few buildings. Is this where it is? Does this town have the barbecue place that is the destination for this Sunday’s long drive?
I felt Buster push his head over the back seat and nudge my shoulder. He whined quietly in my ear. He must have to go too. I loosened the seat belt thru the buckle so it wasn’t so tight on my stomach.
I reached up a hand to pet Buster’s head and leaned my own against the door jam. Cathy was finally quiet on her end of the hot, sticky, vinyl bench seat. When she’d finally stopped poking hands and feet over the line onto my side, she fell asleep. In sleep, she may have looked innocent; but awake, it was her job to torment me. Taunting me until I yelled or retaliated. Then I’d get in trouble.