MMWUC for October 15, 2007

EXERCISE: "Close your eyes, take a deep breath, and relax. No. I really mean it. Close, breath, and relax. Doesn't that feel good. For the next ten minutes, write from any animal's point of view, 'If only my owner would...'" Lassie walked down the aisle between the writers nipping at those who hadn't started to write. Benji patrolled the front row while Beethoven slobbered near the student in the corner. Paulie flew overhead, dropping motivation on unsuspecting writers. Morris the Cat smiled, and then swiped some poor girl's ho-ho. Maraduke bounced Garfield and Odie out of the room. "Freeloaders," he growled. Esmarelda slithered near a group of writers from Maine, imploring them to write with flicks of her tongue like crack of a whip. As the ten minutes expired, the writers gingerly headed for the back of the room to escape to the relative comfort of the cafeteria down the hall. They passed a portly man with strange, slurring British accent and the hundreds of birds perched near and on him.

MUSINGS: My mind wanders a lot. It wanders often in the library where I've been spending some time lately, escaping the household chores, while attempting to study for the Project Manager's Professional exam. It's not going well. My mind wanders a lot. My brain isn't absorbing the material as readily as the memories of all the animals that have appeared in books and movies in my lifetime and that I find calling to me from the library shelves. And yet, when I write an animal story, I can never get the animal to shine on the page like in my mind. My mind wanders a lot, and I find animal traits elusive to capture and make real. I've started Sydney's story a dozen times, but it dies a slow death on the page like the worm that feel out of the sky the other day. Breakfast for a robin, I presumed. The worm wiggled a few times, but the sun shriveled him before my eyes. My mind wanders a lot.