Alright, let's get those writer's muscles flabbing! Here we have the story (a group of hikers encounters a woman dressed in glory...SHOW me, please?) , and the challenge (kick those elderly neighbors' love life in the pantaloonies)
come one, come all, let's write!
Running Start?
The hills were alive with the sounds of fall that day, the thrashing of dried leaves in breezes, the crack of sticks underfoot, and the muted moistness as hiking boots mashed the mat of damp leaves.
Go! Here's your very own baton, hold it with both hands so you don't drop it, and show us what happened out there in the woods that day.
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Hmm, Not Bad.
Date: 2008-02-07 04:44 am (UTC)I CAN'T SEE YOU!
Alright, let's get those writer's muscles flabbing! Here we have the story (a group of hikers encounters a woman dressed in glory...SHOW me, please?) , and the challenge (kick those elderly neighbors' love life in the pantaloonies)
come one, come all, let's write!
Running Start?
The hills were alive with the sounds of fall that day, the thrashing of dried leaves in breezes, the crack of sticks underfoot, and the muted moistness as hiking boots mashed the mat of damp leaves.
Go! Here's your very own baton, hold it with both hands so you don't drop it, and show us what happened out there in the woods that day.
Write!