Writing Exercise for Week 11 – Short Story

Write: try this writing exercse.

Create a brief list consisting of:

  • three different characters
  • three different locations
  • three different events.

Now choose one from each of the categories and make some notes about how you could bring them together to make a story. Then try starting the story and writing a few paragraphs.

  • Can you see a theme yet?  Do you think it would develop over time?
  • Make a note of your reflections on how you could use this process to develop a short story.
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Characters:

One – The Bag Lady

Wearing baggy pants and multiple jumpers two sizes too big for her.  A beanie pushed down covering most of her shoulder length straggly sandy brown hair.  She pulls a bedraggled looking suitcase on wheels behind her, stuffed to the brim with her life's possessions and whatever she has collected from the street that she could squeeze in there.  The wrinkles on her face a telltale sign of her time spent on the streets, head down, shoulders hunched, as she goes along looking for bumpers whilst eyeing the passers-by, half worrying that they will try to take her bag from her.

Two – The Business Man

Checks his watch as he hops off the train and races up the stairs to the concourse.  His suit streamlined to fit his body as if someone had made the suit as the mold to pour the human into it, filling it exactly.  A briefcase in one hand but not being held, hand is there more for comfort, secure in the knowledge that the briefcase remains by his side, but it can't go far as it's secured firmly by the shoulder strap wrapping it's outstretched arms around the business man's neck.

Three – The housewife.

Tired from surface cleaning all counters and tables, she sits down to enjoy a cup of tea, a habit from the days she lived in England.  Her apron showing tell tale hints of the breadmaking earlier in the day followed by some gardening.  She sips at her tea with one eye on the clock waiting for her favourite show to start on a telly; an American talk show.

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Locations:

One – Shopping Mall

Cars fill the carpark of the small shopping centre offset from the main street.  The front gives an initial false impression of it's true size until you enter the front glass doors and the scene unfolds before you.  What initially appeared to be a single layer shopping centre turns out to have multiple levels, the front entrance being on the top floor, escalators and glass lifts inviting you to the floors and the many shops below.

Two – Laundry

The constant humming of the machines that line the wall of the old shop constantly in motion seems to give an unwelcome atmosphere that hums out to the new patrons "we're busy, we're busy, we're busy" as visitors look along to the machines to find one having a momentary rest before being fed more clothes to chew on, cleaning, drying, cleaning, drying before spewing their contents back out again fresh enough to be taken home.

Three – School

The harsh bell rings releasing the children from the confines of the classes into the corridor like a tidal wave of human heads, limbs and school bags.  A tidal wave that knows not where it's going as the children scatter in all different directions heading for a different class.

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Events:

One – March

Loud bands flood the street with music as multitudes of bright uniforms lighten up the street as they march down, showing how pretty this business is or that, a centenary of commercialism in this little town.

Two – Sale

Women tug-of-war at the pile of clothes in the various tables, trying to get the best deals on whatever specials they can find.

Three – Party

Balloons bob under the ceiling; colourful clouds gazing over the tables strewn with cake, candles, and all things sweet.

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What to combine, I'd probably combine the bag lady being confronted by the march out front of the shopping centre.

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Putting it all together:

The day dawns bright as the music in the distance becomes louder with every passing second.  She leaves the alleyway and turns the corner into a colourful scene trumpets blaring in a row behind drummers, flutists and a handful of baton twirlers.  People milling around their cars in the carpark of the shopping centre as this marching band seemingly appeared from nowhere gathers attention from onlookers as the tail of the march grows by the floats now adding to the end of it.  This marching line continues to grow till all that can be seen is float after brightly coloured float.  The number 100 appearing on most of them, businesses boasting about how long they've been around using antique furniture to decorate the floats and participants wearing vintage costumes from a century before.

Pulling her bedraggled suitcase, she slowly walks in amongst the crowd at the people surrounding her without seeing her, all eyes averted to the loud activity now heading for the street.  She continues on, noticing that people have been careless with their purses and wallets.  She steers clear of them.  If there are pick pockets in amongst the crowd, these onlookers will soon become victims of theft, and they'd all see her and lay the blame on her because she looks like the odd one out, so she makes it obvious enough that she's not going near to any of the onlookers.  As poor as she is, she's no thief.  She'll accept money given to her, but she won't take it without their permission.

As the day warms up, she removes her fingerless gloves and stuffs them in her pockets to share space with crumpled up tissues and used cigarette butts.  She follows behind the march, maybe they'll throw treats out to the crowd, maybe lollies, and anyway, they're heading in the direction of the soup kitchen just three streets away.  Butterflies swell in her stomach as she turns to see half the crowd from the shopping mall also following the march.  She's not used to being so close to such large numbers of people.  After her children left home, and her husband died, she had no choice but to give the house to the bank as she couldn't afford to keep up mortgage payments.  Her children all had families of their own and no room to house their mum, so she decided not to tell them she was living on the street.  She let them think she had died when a nearby hotel burned down to the ground, her favourite hangout where she could meet up with friends.  So her children, who now live in another State, never came to look for her.

….yeh…. I see where this is heading….

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I see a theme happening, and yes, I can build on this over time.

Thinking up characters, locations and events before starting the story does seem to make the creation of the story a lot easier, it helps bring it life more than if you were to start writing the short story without planning anything first.


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