Showing posts with label writing exercise. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing exercise. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Second Writing Exercise

Another writing exercise my advisor gave me was to write a paragraph of 150 words in sentences of 7 words or less. The shorter the better. Here's that one:

We had lost Donny. He was only three years old. He could be anywhere. Dad looked under the table. I ran over to the pool. There he was! Donny had jumped into the water. I could see him wiggling. I jumped in after him. Luckily, the water was three feet deep. Donny tried to get away from me. He was still underwater. I reached in and grabbed him. I lifted him high. The silly boy giggled. He tried to swim in the air. Dad took him from my arms. Donny laughed and laughed. He struggled to get into the water. Dad wouldn’t let him. Dad gave him to me. I led Donny to the swings. We spent time swinging. After that adventure, we gave Donny waterwings.

(Update. Don now swims like a fish – two feet under water all the way. He can’t seem to float.)

Monday, June 20, 2011

Nonfiction Monday and writing exercise

Nonfiction Monday is located at Geo Librarian today.

I just wanted to share a true story that I wrote as one of my Packet 5 assignments for Vermont College. The assignment was -- Write a one sentence paragraph of at at least 150 words. And here's what I wrote:

So there we are at the dinning room table with the family all gathered around to meet my new boyfriend, the guy who asked me to marry him believe it or not, and as usual Sandy and Don are sitting on the other side from me carrying on, which they do all the time, with Don grabbing Sandy’s arm, placing it around his neck and screaming that she’s choking him while all the time Sandy is trying to remove her arm from his neck but he has too strong a grip on it and keeps shoving it towards his throat and they keep on yelling and all of this rumpus across the table from me (and my boyfriend, soon to be husband) ends in the usual way with ‘someone,’ I won’t say just who, knocking over their milk and the milk streaming across the table into my lap and me reacting in the usual way with TOTAL embarrassment.

(Marion if you are reading this, you know WHO spilt the milk.)