TINY TUESDAY (m)

iVillage Member
Registered: 03-25-2003
TINY TUESDAY (m)
32
Tue, 01-22-2002 - 10:11am

TINY TUESDAY (m)


A while back, we had a Tiny Tuesday exercise where we all used the same opening sentence for our stories. It was amazing to see how many directions the stories went. So this week, please begin your short story with the following sentence.

I stared at the envelope, reading again the word Briamonte.

Have fun,

Mac

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iVillage Member
Registered: 03-25-2003
Thu, 01-24-2002 - 11:22am

You’ve got my attention!!! (m)


I love what you’ve got going on here and of course I’m dying to know what happens next. You painted a great picture of the roommates and their apartment. I felt like I was there hearing Schwarzenegger’s screams and I wanted a bite of that sandwich.

One minor nit-pick: I think you meant seven-word sentence.

So now that you’ve got us all hooked, I hope you expand this story and share it with us. Great writing, Ramona.

Mac

iVillage Member
Registered: 03-25-2003
Thu, 01-24-2002 - 11:25am

Outstanding!!! (m)


It continues to fascinate me how many directions we all can take from the same opening sentence.

I really liked your story. I felt sympathetic to Celeste’s situation and drawn into her life. I also liked how you had Luc kind of standoffish at first but then warms up to her again quickly. That showed what kind of relationship they had before.

I was curious though if Luc had some “insider” information about Jean de Briamonte or was he just being protective of her?

I can certainly understand why your muse got carried away with this one. It was fabulous! Can we look for a part two? I hope so.

Mac

Visitor (not verified)
anonymous user
Thu, 01-24-2002 - 11:34am

Isn't it interesting how envelopes just evoke this mystery on their own...


I love the way you turn the envelope into just one "cover" for the truth - now she's got to go and open another "cover" at the post office!

This was funny, too...especially the roomate. Ah, I remember it well, pints of Ben and Jerry's and Harrison Ford movies were what we did...

Wendy

Visitor (not verified)
anonymous user
Thu, 01-24-2002 - 11:36am

The suspense just keeps building...


we may have to make the next Tues. exercise to "resolve" your plot suspense from the last one! (hee hee)...

I loved the addition of the song. It gave us a time and a place for the action - and really set the mood nicely.

I'd love to hear the rest of this!

Wendy

Visitor (not verified)
anonymous user
Thu, 01-24-2002 - 12:01pm

Aw shucks... (m)


Thank you so much for your words of encouragement. I hate to admit it, but I'm not sure where exactly this is going. Will contemplate it though and see what my character has to say.

PaMsJ2u

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anonymous user
Thu, 01-24-2002 - 12:11pm

oops, forgot who I was (hbgboo) not pamsj2u (nt)


iVillage Member
Registered: 03-26-2003
Thu, 01-24-2002 - 1:49pm

Sweet Story(m)


This was a sweet story - stories about mothers and their children always get me. One suggestion - the last sentence of the story seemed kind of tacked on. I would either drop it altogether, or flesh it out a little bit - explain that his cancer is gone, how he grew to love the little girl, etc.

All in all, this was a great story! Shmoopy

iVillage Member
Registered: 03-26-2003
Thu, 01-24-2002 - 1:57pm

Great writing(m)


I thought your writing was very smooth. I love a good historical romance - this piece left me wanting to know more!

Visitor (not verified)
anonymous user
Thu, 01-24-2002 - 6:45pm

Am I too late to post? Inspiration finally hit, on a Thursday...


I stared at the envelope, reading again the word Briamonte. I hadn’t used my Christian name since I’d enlisted.

That’s right, I was born Briamonte Nathan Mellow, and yes, the schoolyard taunts were as brutal as you have pictured. My mother had a thing for classics, and gave all us kids literary character’s surnames as given names. My sisters were Fitzwilliam Lillian Mellow and Chamberlayne Faye Mellow; my brothers Robinson Marcus Mellow and Hurst Jeffrey Mellow.

As the baby of the family, my arrival signified that indeed mother had not completed menopause – she found herself in her late forties bleaching cloth diapers and performing the finger actions for The Itsy Bitsy Spider. My older siblings had moved out and started families of their own – I was the only kid in school whose niece was my babysitter.

But I digress.

The return address included my mother’s nursing home in Indiana, and the letter had been originally addressed to my former home on McGuire AFB in New Jersey. It was an unusually cool day for Somalia – I didn’t start sweating until 0530 hours, at least an hour later than usual. It was the first of my three days off, and I was relaxing in my bunk when Brinks handed me the envelope.

“Briamonte?” His eyebrows disappeared under the brim of his non-regulation New York Nicks cap.

“Yes, that’s me,” I replied. “And no, I won’t answer to it again.”

Brinks handed out the rest of the mail and winked at me when he left the tent. I couldn’t trust that he’d keep my name a secret. I held the sturdy envelope and my thoughts flew across the Atlantic to my mother, living at the Last Days – Home for the Infirm and Penniless. The envelope must contain an invoice for the upcoming year.

You see, as the baby of the family, and the only one without kids or a mortgage, it was my duty to support my mother in her twilight years. And on a military salary, I couldn’t afford the fancier homes suggested by Chamerlayne and Hurst.

But mother assured me that she found the scratchy sheets relaxing and the black and white TV with rabbit ears nostalgic, so I didn’t feel too guilty most of the time. She had also said she preferred the Lite Meal Plan, consisting of watery lentil soups and mashed yams six days a week, which made the bill far more affordable.

Butting out my cigarette on the sole of my boot, I tore open the envelope. I unfolded the single sheet inside and was surprised to find that it was not an invoice. Instead, it was a letter, signed by the owner. All I managed to read before my eyes poured forth ten quarts of tears were the words: “We regret to inform you that…”

- - -

Thanks, Eyewrite

iVillage Member
Registered: 03-25-2003
Thu, 01-24-2002 - 7:49pm

Welcome to the SSB, hbgboo (m)


Besides the fact I love Don McClain's music, I liked how suspenseful your TT was.

I had no idea Briamonte was a woman--that was clever of you! I'd love to know how she died and what were the circumstances surrounding her death. Since we're all beginning for more of this story, I hope you'll expand it.

Thanks for sharing and I look forward to reading more of your writings,

Mac

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