Sunday, March 18, 2012

Exercises from the Leigh Michael's Workshop

I just got back from a wonderful KYRW workshop and thought I'd post one of the exercises we did there.
We talked about writing in male and female POV and how writing in those POVs changes your  word choices.
The assignment was to write a scene about a woman going to a store to pick something up. Then write one from the male POV.

We all had a blast doing this and some of the scenes written were truly publishing worthy.
Below were mine. I had a blast doing them.
Teresa R.

Female POV

I wheeled into the parking lot of the hardware store and looked down at the list my husband had handed me. The row of items read like a foreign language.
What the heck was gorilla glue? If it was glue made from gorilla’s I was going to raise hell. Poor things.

At a deep rumble, I glance up as a flat bed truck labored by loaded with wood and sheetrock. I at least knew what those were, But not so much some of the things on my list.  Surely, there would be employees inside to help me search for them.

I shoved open the car door and snagging my purse from the passenger seat, exited the car. The late afternoon sun struck the glass doors shooting my reflection back at me. My hastily gathered hair tumbled about my shoulders like a sparrows nest. I ran my hands through the mess to smooth it before I tugged the door open.

I paused a moment to allow my vision to adjust to the change in light. Row after row of shelves shot back into the narrow space. They seemed to groan and creak from the weight of the metal implements that cluttered them. Pegboard lined the walls with tools, belts, and straps hanging from metal hooks. Saws some big, some small, lay like discarded weapons atop a table to my right. Their narrow toothy blades looked vicious and hungry.

Didn’t this place have any non-aggressive tools?




Male POV
I pulled up in front of the purple building. I’d borrowed my mother’s tan Caddy to avoid anyone knowing I’d frequented the place. Parking my black Dooly in the parking lot would be like renting a billboard saying Dan's at the toy store.

I sat behind the wheel and watched as several people exited the building. The guys at work would never let me live it down if anyone spotted me here. I waited until a blond strolled by with a small paperback and got in her car, the last in the lot besides mine.

Once her black Alero disappeared in a cloud of dust from the gravel parking lot, I shoved the door open and exited the vehicle.

The bright purple lettering across the door seemed to flash like neon. The churches in the area had been raising hell about the place. If the local cops raided it while I was here, my picture would be on the six o’clock news and I'd never live it down.

But this is what she wanted for her birthday. I grinned. I'd benefit just as much as she would by buying her what she wanted. Oh yeah.

I dragged the door open, setting the bells tied to the top jingling. Strolling in with a swagger, I paused just left of the cash register to peruse the merchandize. Jesus Christ!  In front of me on the first shelf was a pink penis at least thirteen inches long. A motorized pink penis that rotated slowly around and around.  No way was I buying that for her.

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