Follow my journey toward publication. Laugh, cry, point and stare-- it's all good. I'll leave a trail so that you, my fellow author, may have a straighter path to finding your own elusive publishing contract. Adventure awaits. Let's travel together...

Saturday, January 7, 2012

January's Story Improv

It's been a long time since I've done one of these. I thought we'd have a little fun this week. Read the story opening below, and add the next few lines in the comments. Be sure to read all the comments as the story grows so that our tale makes sense. Since this week's upcoming clash at COTT is about Death, let's see if we can work that in. Who knows, together we could write the most compelling excerpt of all!

(I'll leave this open awhile, providing links back to it at the top of future posts so it's easy to find. Feel free to invite friends to join in too.)

Marianne sat in the green wicker chair with her mug of spiced cider warming her hands. The mountain breeze brought a few tendrils of hair swirling into her eyes. She tucked them back behind her ear and adjusted the collar of her heavy robe. Early mornings at the lake-front cabin had been her favorite time the last forty years, and today was no different. Though everything else in her life seemed to have changed overnight.


Lee Carver said...

Her sister Jessica's call over the Christmas season began a whirlwind. After the recipe swap, after the shared sadness that Dad wasn't with us this year, she made a strange comment. She had seen someone at the little tourist store in town that looked so much like Brandon. She had called his name. He looked up, smiled slightly, then nodded. "Sorry. You have me confused with someone else." Then he put down the carving of a deer and left without buying anything. My heart pounded with sudden hope. Brandon, alive and in Forest Glen? How could that be?

Julie Arduini said...

Marianne returned the warm drink to her reading table and picked up the yellowed paper clippings.

Brandon's death notice.

His obituary.

An article, complete with a quote from the police, explaining his death.

The proof was before her that Brandon was gone. Yet Jessica's story nagged at her.

The cider grew cold, but Marianne's resolve heightened. She was going to find out the truth, once and for all.

Pat Iacuzzi said...

After setting up a date with Jessica for coffee at Tim Horton's, Marianne changed into a comfortable sapphire blue sweater and her tan slacks. She stared into the mirror. Her escape from the city hadn't improved her looks any. She still looked tired and drawn.

She yanked out the band that held her ragged ponytail,and ran a comb through her auburn bob. Why she'd kept her hair in the style and length Brandon preferred she wasn't sure. After all he was gone wasn't he? Marianne swallowed, her throat tight. And if he wasn't....
If he wasn't, why had he come back?

She grabbed her keys and purse, and headed for the kitchen. Just as she'd dumped some kibbles for Charlie and Dibs, she heard a car pull up in the drive. She brushed aside the curtain.

The police? What were they doing here?