Writing Workshop - Ex. 3

Story - "Conflict and Resolution" exercise

Here is the third of the three. Third, fourth and fifth, of the five, actually.

In this, the exercises were as follows:

A - Develop a character of your choice. Just describe her.

B - Look at the person from his/ her lover's perspective

C - Develop a conflict/ problem situation and resolve it, with humour as the premise.

Here is what I sketched -

(more to come...)

 

Writing Workshop - Ex. 2

This was another exercise, in which we were shown a random picture from a newspaper cutting and told to write a story in a maximum of 10 sentences.

The catches were:
- You cannot lift you pen and stop to think It's "speed" writing.
- It needs to be inspired by the picture we were shown.

The picture was of few young, dark kids in their school uniform.

Here is what I could come up with -

She was fortunate, she thought to herself.

She was fortunate that she could go to school.

Her mother had told her that she slept on the footpath and begged at the traffic signal when she was her age.

She can at least go to school!

But then, she had also overheard faint bits of the conversation her parents were having last night.

They said she could go to school, but only as long as her father does not find a suitable groom.

He has been searching for a match for her for sometime now, and is aware that she is growing up fast.

Next summer she will be fourteen.

Which meant, she would never study enough to become a teacher that she always wanted to  be.

However, she was still fortunate that she could at least go to school, she reminded herself once again.

Writing workshop - Ex. 1

Okay, so here is what the exercise was. We had to pick up one or a couple of kitchen items of our choice, from what was available in the kitchen of the house where we were having this game. We then had to write a story, of 3 sentences (no more or no less), using these items as components in the story.

I chose cups and coffee maker.

And here is what I had written -

It was yet another morning.

He walked into the kitchen, picked up the blue coffee mug and filled it up with filter coffee, whistling a tune to himself all the while.

The pick mug lay there, desolate and dusty; it has been left behind, unused, ever since the day she packed her bags and left her home for good.