First Person:
You settled into your narrator's voice yesterday, now let's question that decision. What if Helen of Troy wrote her own version of the Iliad? What would Oedipus's mom write? Pick one of your flat or static characters and have them describe the plot of your story from their own point of view. We know they're not going to be a big deal in the story, but for just a moment, let them speak in their own authentic voice about what they've seen and done to be a part of your novel.
Yank It
The massive crane pulled the tiny house and its yard out of the Earth and lifted it to ...
Working at Home
How much work do you bring home? What would you like to do in the bedroom to be more productive? What things do you do that drives your significant others crazy?
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Yank It Up by Wolfgang Glinka
"Here you go!" said the voice as a man's hand gripped his shoulder and yanked him up out of the mud.
"You can't be falling over like that you know my friend. Face down in the mud is not good!"
It wasn't. He had reached point zero. Broken and dejected, he had just gone into free fall....ending up in this muddy field. He didn't know how.
Now he was right back on his feet. The man's grip had woken him up, made him feel good again. He looked around but his rescuer was nowhere in sight.
Whoever had dragged him to his feet had done him a favour because he was on on a familiar street , with a swagger in his walk and a whistle playing quietly round his lips.
It was evening and he was in his old surroundings, the town centre on a Friday night. He was just one of the lads maybe but he was out for a good time.
There was the bar, his local, where all his mates hung out.
There they were. Shouting and hollering. welcoming him back to the fold. Lining up the drinks, queuing up the jokes, eyeing the talent.
There she was too, the alpha queen. Still with her friends but her eyes going on a cruise, their gazes met and the body language began.
He stared, she met his stare, she fingered hair, he smiled, a quick flaah of teeth, she looked down then up again, zooming in on him after a couple of blinks.
He was now sitting next to her, tall stools at the bar and tall drinks with fruit and ice.
"Cheers!"
His mates drifted off - the rules of the game. He had won, the alpha crown, his for the night.
She was happy too. This game was fun. Boys and girls, winners and losers, battle tactics, maybe even love - well one day.
And so the game was played.
He did well. Kept his cool, did his part, said the right things, pressed the right buttons.
She did better. She always would. For now. For a year or two. There were many more claimants for that alpha crown.
He, like all the others would win until he lost. Losing was the only ending.
When it came, it came suddenly - brutally.
Her bored face turned, a lever was pulled and he fell.
Down to the ground.
"Here you go!" it was that man's voice again. The hand on his shoulder and strong grip ready to yank him up.
"I told you before, you cannot keep falling like this."
"Leave me here," came the reply. "Let me lie in the mud."
The grip was released and down he fell.
Wolfgang Glinka
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