Quote of the Day–Henry David Thoreau

lovequote

I chose a quote about love today because this subject is the most difficult for me. Stereotypically, as a woman, I should easily be able to write a great, lovey-dovey, emotion-loaded scene, right? No. Wrong. I would much rather write a scene of someone being literally cut off at the knees than write a kissing scene. Don’t worry; I can do it. It’s just not quite as easy for me as many other types of writing. Oftentimes I have a hard time suspending my disbelief enough to write someone falling in real-true-honest-to-god-love within a handful of book pages. Realistically, it always seems like it should take longer than it does, which is something I feel while reading as well as writing. Ironic, considering that my husband and I got engaged 1 month after we met…

Anyway, I’ve decided to take this quote and apply it to my writing. “There is no remedy for (writing about) love but to (write about) love more.” Practice makes perfect; isn’t that that thing everybody says? So if you’re like me and have a hard time writing about love, let’s practice together.

Today’s Prompt: Write a story in which the main character meets someone completely new and proceeds to fall in love–believably–in ONE PAGE only.

May the Force be with you.

KC

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The Intersection

 

image from jamco.biz

30 Day Writing Challenge Day 15: Write about a stranger you see. Either their back-story or what they are thinking in the moment you see them. This may be a little lame, but it was literally the only stranger I saw today. I wore sweats all day; I wasn’t going any further in public than in my car. I wrote what this person was thinking in the moment I saw her, but I also expanded it beyond that and created a little fictional scenario. Hope you like it even if it’s lame!

In Love and Christ,
KC

I’m sitting at the red light waiting for a break in the traffic. All I need to do is turn left; why don’t they have an arrow here? What a stupid place not to have an arrow.

Minutes pass. It feels like hours, especially since in my mind’s eye I can see the angry faces of the endless line of drivers behind me. They’re probably muttering curses and groaning over the fact that they’re being held back from wherever it is they’re trying to go. I can hear it. They’re narrow minded, of course. They don’t know that it’s not my fault– there’s no arrow! What am I supposed to do without an arrow? All I’m able to do is sit here in my little car, totally dependent upon the mercy of some kind person in the opposite lane. Don’t they get it?

The light turns red. Great. Now all those people are groaning and cursing even louder because now they have to sit through yet another red light. And even though they’ve probably been stuck here waiting to turn left before, they don’t think about that. All they think about is the fact that I’m the reason they’re late for work/yoga/coffee/dinner. Turn green. Turn green.

My parents used to tell me that if I chanted “turn green” in pig latin, it would make the light turn green faster. “Urn-tay een-gray; urn-tay een-gray…”

It works! Quickly I step on the accelerator to make my move, only to slam on the brakes one moment later. The other guy was faster. Of course. Someone behind me honks unnecessarily. “What do you want me to do?” I shout, throwing my hands up, “There’s no arrow!”

I endure what feels like hours of unspoken pressure from the drivers behind me. I know they’re upset to be stuck here. The guy behind me in the massive truck keeps inching closer. I seriously think he just nudged my bumper. What’s he going to do– run over me? I don’t know. From the looks of his angry face in my rearview, he just might. Just in case I scoot my tiny car forward a little more. He swallows the space with his huge grill.

Swallowing a gulp, I turn to pleading with the cars in the opposite lane. Somebody save me! I’m going to be roadkill any minute if I don’t get to turn! Please! They all pass by as if they don’t see me.

The light turns yellow and I cringe. But then something miraculous happens. Instead of zooming through the yellow light, a man in a police car stops short and then… he waves me through! Yes! Victory! This stranger in uniform just saved my life! Smiling and waving like a lunatic, I make my turn. He nods at me as I pass.

Huge truck guy appears to be shaking his fist, but I don’t care. I made it through the intersection from Hades alive, and that is something to be thankful for. If I ever see that policeman again, I might just kiss him. And to think, I once thought all cops were jerks.

Suddenly something flashes in my rearview mirror. Courteous Policeman who just saved my life? What are you doing here?

I pull over and he parks his car behind mine. He approaches the window and knocks.

“Hi officer,” I say nervously.

“Hello,” he says as he scribbles on his pad, “License and registration?”

I dig them out and hand them over. “Thanks for waving me through just now. I’d been having a hard time.”

He looks at me over his sunglasses. “I wasn’t waving you through. I was telling you to pull over. Your inspection sticker is expired; that’s a ticket. Then the light turned red as you turned left. That’s another ticket.”

What? I’m speechless. I should have let truck guy turn me into roadkill! This is so much worse. Not so Courteous Policeman hands me a ticket that costs more than I make in a month, nods, walks back to his car and drives in the direction he came from. When he gets to the light, the jerk flips on his siren and turns left without ever having to wait.

Laying my head against the steering wheel I sigh. I guess I wasn’t meant to have a hero today– and I’m not counting on tomorrow either. I know one thing though: I’m never going back to that intersection.

-THE END-

Kharis Courtney ©2013

Check out what other authors came up with for this challenge!

Defining Moments

30 Day Writing Challenge Day 12: Find 10 random words and create your own definitions. So, my wonderful husband, Jordan, took me on a surprise Mother’s Day/Anniversary getaway yesterday. As you could see, I didn’t get a chance to do yesterday’s challenge… But here I am with Day 12 and I’ll try to get to 11 soon! Happy Mother’s Day, y’all! :)

In Love and Christ,
KC

 

1. Microphone [mahy-kruh-fohn] (noun):

  • An extremely small telephone invented by Thomas Antison primarily for use by ants, but also for use by ladybugs, beetles, and other members of the class insecta. Ex: When the ants stumbled upon a picnic, they called the queen on the microphone.Read More »

A Completely Different World

30 day Writing Challenge Day 5: a story that revolves around an object in your room. There are many objects in this story. Try to guess which one I picked to base the story on. Hint: I’m from Louisiana.

In Love and Christ,
KC

image from zazzle.com

I’ve been counting down the days for months. Now as I stand before my calendar, marking a thick, red “X” through May 20, I am struck with the sudden sense of realization that there are only two days left; two days until this room around me is completely empty and I’m on an adventure to a different world.Read More »

Her Mother’s Daughter

hermothersdaughter30 Day Writing Challenge Day 2: Write a fanfiction. When I first read through the prompts, I knew that this one would be the biggest challenge. I am not the kind of person who ever writes with another person’s characters. When you create a character, you know them. You become intimately acquainted with exactly who they are–as an author, you can never know another author’s character in that way, so writing them usually leads to either a shallow imitation or said character being manipulated beyond recognition. Keeping this in mind, I tried to keep it simple with this one and after much deliberation, decided upon characters from a book that I know backwards and forwards: Jane Austen’s Emma. I included many allusions to the book and obviously, this will make the most sense to others who have read Emma. It’s more of a scene than a story, and takes place after the book’s end. Here it is; my best shot at this whole fanfiction thing.

In Love and Christ,
KC

“Her Mother’s Daughter”

George Knightley, having just returned from visiting a tenant, stood in the hall of Donwell Abbey watching his wife, who was not so subtly peeking through the parlor door.Read More »