Sunday’s Surprise: Open The Envelope (m)

iVillage Member
Registered: 03-25-2003
Sunday’s Surprise: Open The Envelope (m)
9
Sun, 02-17-2002 - 11:22am

Sunday’s Surprise: Open The Envelope (m)


During our chat this past Wednesday night, Jade suggested we do an exercise on “show vs tell.” So this week, go back and select one of your Tiny Tuesday exercises from the past. Circle (or highlight) any area of the story where you told what happened, and then rewrite it using the “show” rule.

Here’s an example CL-Ozarker provided during our chat:

“I can tell the reader that John went into the bank and withdrew $50,000 dollars or I can show them by saying, John strode through the bank doors, pulled out his Glock.40, and yelled, "Everyone on the floor." before he dashed out with $50,000."

Happy writing,

Mac

PS…If you want to post a link to the original version (for comparison purposes), feel free to do so but don’t feel obligated.

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iVillage Member
Registered: 03-25-2003
Sun, 02-17-2002 - 2:17pm

Here’s my shot at it (m)


I’m not sure how well I did on this exercise. It proved to be quite harder than I would have expected, but here it goes. This story was originally posted as a Tiny Tuesday exercise on 8/30/01 (http://boards1.ivillage.com/messages/get/bcbasics10/51/2.html).

Mac

* * *

"Buckle up, Mommie. It's the law," Henry said, pointing his tiny finger at the black and white metal sign.

During the last month of my pregnancy, the abnormal aches and pains caused by the seatbelt persuaded me to drive without it. "I know I should, but Mommie's belly is too big," I said. "You wouldn't want me to squeeze it so tight that your little sister would come out early, would you?"

His giggles followed mine. For several weeks, my husband and I teased our son that when the baby came he wouldn't be the baby anymore. He tapped his thumb to his chest. "No way. I wanna be the baby."

"Besides the store is less than four miles away," I reported, as if the short distance made it acceptable to break the rules.

June 9th marked the official beginning of my maternity leave. But I had one client who threatened to take his business elsewhere if he had to deal with either of the partners in the firm. Even though I disliked the idea, I accommodated his wishes by participating in a conference call from my home earlier that morning. For Henry’s cooperation -- he remained quiet while I was on the phone, no interruptions -- I promised my five-year-old a trip to Wal-mart. There he’d be allowed to choose a new toy. The moment the call ended, we loaded into the car and headed for the store.

But we never made it. Less than a hundred yards away, our path crossed with two teenager’s drag racing on the street adjacent to our home. Seeing them approach, occupying both lanes, I yanked the wheel as hard as I could to the right.

Later at the hospital, my heart shattered as the doctor explained to my husband that our expectant baby hadn't survived the accident. I watched as my husband’s callused hands clutched the sheet that covered me, burying his face into my side. The spot where he used to rest his ear and speak to the baby; once or twice he’d been tapped by the baby’s kicking. He sobbed like a small child but my touch wasn’t strong enough to comfort him not matter how hard I squeezed. In my mind, I kept replaying the last moments of the accident, seeing the fear that had radiated from Henry's coal-black eyes when I glanced his way.

"Mr. Richards, I hope you know we did all we could for your wife," Dr. Rodas said, wiping his forehead with the green cloth that he removed from his head. "Nurse Ballain will take you to see Henry. He's in stable condition now."

A deep breath escaped my lips. Knowing that son was in the safety of his father's care, I could move on. I brushed my hand against my husband's wavy brown hair before ascending upward, past the ceiling and onto the bright light than beckoned me.

iVillage Member
Registered: 03-28-2003
Sun, 02-17-2002 - 7:10pm

Show & Tell


I hope it's ok that I used my June exercise for this.

http://boards1.ivillage.com/messages/get/bcbasics8/47.html

IT'S BEEN AWHILE

"And it's been awhile since I could hold my head up high..."

Sloane Peterson sang the line from the Staind song over and over as she thought about the interview.

The reporter accepted a glass of tea and sat on the faded floral sofa across from Sloane. She was a slim woman with auburn hair and large penetrating eyes. There would be no mercy, Sloane saw. She would have to watch what she said as carefully as if she were back in court.

"Do you mind if I use this?" the reporter asked as she pulled a small tape recorder from a large Gucci bag. "It's only for accuracy."

Why not, Sloane thought, the last two years of her life were public record anyway. Sloane shivered as she remembered the three-column photo. Frank, dressed in a dark suit with a worried expression on his pale face, seated next to her at the defense table.

"No, I don't mind."

"Tell me, what has your life been like since you were released?" the reporter asked, having already produced a notebook.

Sloane looked around her shabby apartment then gazed out the window behind the reporter. She should have known she would never live in Frank's world.

She saw clearly, not for the first time, she drove him to it with her lies, deceit, and obsession. This was her world; a world of her own making.

"Miss Peterson?"

"I'm sorry," Sloane said. "What was your question?"

"Let's try something else," the reporter said. "Your attorney, Frank Kline, argued in court that you panicked, but some people still have difficulty understanding why you didn't go for help."

It was the one question Sloane didn't want to answer, but she knew it was coming. She wrapped her mahogany-colored arms around her thin body to brace herself. Her stomach cramped and her jaws ached, but she fought to keep her voice even.

"I wasn't even sure I was pregnant until that day," Sloane said, trying to remember how Frank worded it. "I had some bleeding early in the pregnancy and believed I'd already lost the baby. When the labor began I was alone and scared. I panicked. I was afraid I would die right there in that dorm room."

"But you didn't," the reporter said.

"No, I didn't," Sloan responded. "My baby did."

"Miss Peterson, I am a mother myself and I can only imagine how horrible it must have been for you to deliver your baby alone in a university dorm room with no one to turn to, but after you realized the baby was dead why did you not call a doctor, a friend, or the police?"

Sloane felt as if the woman's eyes were peering into her soul. "I don't know," she said quietly.

"But you wrapped the baby in a garbage bag and put him in a trash can. You were a pre-law student, you knew you could be charged with abuse of a corpse," the reporter said with an incredulous stare.

"You don't understand, it would have ruined Frank's career!"

Oh my God, Sloane thought, she hadn't meant for that to slip out. She had been so careful to keep Frank out of it. She couldn't let this reporter find out Frank killed their baby, that he wrapped the umbilical cord around her precious baby's neck.

She had already paid for their crime and nothing was going to bring her baby back.

"Frank Kline?" the reporter asked, her face fixed into an incredulous stare.

"Excuse me, please," Sloane said. "I need to use the bathroom."

She walked to the bathroom, each footstep pounding in her ears.

"And it's been awhile since I said I'm sorry..." Sloane sang the last line as she picked up the bottle of pills.

iVillage Member
Registered: 03-25-2003
Sun, 02-17-2002 - 9:34pm

Patty, I remember this one (m)


and liked it the first time too. It's such a good story and you show us her nervousness well.

Thanks!

Mac

iVillage Member
Registered: 03-28-2003
Mon, 02-18-2002 - 1:52am

Wish There Was An "Edit After Posting" Feature (m)


The reporter stared incredulously one too many times. LOL.

I want to develop this story a little more. I don't want to change the ending, but I want to change the beginning and fill in the middle a little more so if you have any suggestions, I really would appreciate it.

Thank you for your nice comments.

Patty

Visitor (not verified)
anonymous user
Tue, 02-19-2002 - 12:18pm

This poor woman...


losing her baby like that? How horrible. She and her family must be devastated. And to explain the accident and death to the little guy...

This piece has a lot of information and to "show" often means using more words than to "tell".

I think we could show the woman's large belly and discomfort with the seatbelt in this sort of manner: "I pulled the seatbelt up to the ceiling and wound it over to my right side but the belt cut into my belly and I grimaced in pain. 'Sorry, sweetie, mommie's belly is too big for the seatbelt.'"

And we could show the car accident something like this: "Out of nowhere two cars flew across the intersection just ahead. I stomped on the brake and yanked the wheel to the right. Timmy screamed. I screamed. The crunch of metal and the screech of tires. Pressure, oh the pressure. The dash leapt into my lap. I couldn't see Timmy anymore. Exquisite pain and flashing emergency lights. A man leaned into my face. His lips were moving but I couldn't hear him."

Anyhow, just one person's view.

Oh gosh, I just reread the ending - and mommie dies too? Oh the cruelty!

Have a good day, Eyewrite

Visitor (not verified)
anonymous user
Tue, 02-19-2002 - 12:27pm

You're on your way...


There's a sub-story to this story. What did Sloane do and how was Frank involved? Inquiring minds want to know. :)

The reporter "was a slim woman with auburn hair and large penetrating eyes. There would be no mercy, Sloane saw." Maybe we could show the reporter like this: "The reporter filled less than half the chair and she looked like a kid blowing out his birthday candles could blow her over. Her hair matched the auburn candles on the bureau and her large eyes peered right into Sloane's very soul." (as you say later on in the piece.) That kind of idea anyways.

And how could we show that the reporter would show Sloane no mercy? The clicking pen? The tapping of her expensive shoe? The way the reporter pursed her lips and frowned?

It sure would be handy to edit after posting, hey? I've caught typos after and can't do anything about them. Sigh. Technology.

Have a good day, Eyewrite

iVillage Member
Registered: 03-28-2003
Tue, 02-19-2002 - 6:33pm

Need Help Eyewrite...


I'm not sure I understand you mean by sub-story? "What did Sloane do and how was Frank involved? Inquiring minds want to know."

Do you mean I should create a scene showing her delivering the baby and Frank killing it?

Patty

Visitor (not verified)
anonymous user
Wed, 02-20-2002 - 12:59am

Sorry, Patty...


My brain has been in a fog.

I thought at first it was just a reporter and Sloane talking. Then I learned they were talking about her past. And now I've got it, the relationship with Frank. Geez I've been dense.

Sorry if I confused you with my muddle. No sub-story, no need to create a scene with the delivery and the killing, no worries.

I gotta get more sleep. G'nite, Eyewrite

iVillage Member
Registered: 03-28-2003
Wed, 02-20-2002 - 2:36am

No Need To Apologize, I Had A Major Brain Freeze Today & Forgot My Last Name (nt)


Avatar for jadetigerroses
iVillage Member
Registered: 07-01-2003
Wed, 02-20-2002 - 2:59pm

Better late then Never. My SS


I hope I did this right I don't have many TT to work from so I used my last one. I know that I need help on this kind of stuff so here it goes!

First version.

I start to kiss the hollows of her neck and nibble on her earlobes, I am enjoying the small moans that escape from her lips. I slowly start to caress her over her sweater, I feel her body shiver and melt to my touch. She lets the blanket fall, reaching for the buttons on my shirt, slowly undoing them until her hands find my muscular chest. The touch of her hand on my chest felt like fire. I reached down and pulled her sweater off, I moaned at the site of her bare skin and black lacy bra. As I lay her down on the blanket, she looks up at me with doe-like innocence in her eyes, as she opens her lips to speak, I crush her lips with my in a smoldering, probing kiss. In the midst of the kiss, she has pulled off my shirt. In the same moment I have her jeans undone with ease, to help her remove her jeans I pull away. She lifts her hips and off the jeans come in a swift tug to my surprise she has matching black lace bikini panties that match her bra. I swiftly remove my jeans and join her on the blanket.

I hope this is what you are looking for!

Showing more now

I start to kiss the hollows of her neck and nibble lightly on her silken earlobes. I am enjoying the small moans that escapes from her lips. I slowly starts to caress her over her fuzzy sweater, I feels her body shiver and melt to my touch. She lets the old blanket fall, reaching for the small buttons on my shirt, slowly undoing them until her hands find my muscular chest. The touch of her hand on my chest feels like a raging fire. I reach down and pull her soft sweater off, I moaned at the site of her bare cream-like skin and black lacy bra. As I lay her down on the old blanket, she looks up at me with doe-like innocence in her eyes, as she opens her lips to speak, I crush her lips with my in a smoldering, probing kiss. In the midst of the kiss, she pulled off my shirt. In the same moment I have her jeans undone with ease, to help her remove her jeans I pull away. She lifts her hips and off the jeans come in a swift tug to my surprise she has matching black lace bikini panties that match her bra. I swiftly remove my jeans and join her on the old blanket.

Have a mystical day,

Jade

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