How did you get on with this week's writing prompts?
I have to admit to staring at a blank sheet of paper for quite some time this week. I guess I feel under pressure to write an amazing piece of short fiction or a stunning blog post, Write On is my baby after all. It's early days though. I see myself as a facilitator, as leading by example is just not happening right now.
So I shall follow my own advice to you, and that is to just write...
I chose prompt 1 - Overheard
Anna's limo pulled up at the Savoy. She took a deep breath and fixed her face into her trademark enigmatic smile. The door opened and she was blinded by hundreds of camera flashes. She turned in her seat, knees together, and gracefully slid out of the car. She turned towards the shouts, dropped one hip and smouldered. As the next car pulled up she turned and stalked up the red carpet. She was wearing the skin-tight poppy-red silk Prada dress and black skyscraper Laboutins. She was a stunning swan on the surface, but underneath she was an ugly duckling, padding frantically. She felt sick. Was he already here?
Anna's right hand man and chief bag carrier, Mario, met her just inside. 'Darling, you look hot. I'd do you myself right here if that cute concierge wasn't eyeing me up, I don't want to spoil my chances...'. Anna rolled her eyes and told him to shut up. 'Is he here?' she hissed. 'No, honey, not yet'. Mario took Anna's elbow and slowly led her down the sweeping staircase into the ballroom. She felt all eyes on her, but there was no one here she was interested in seeing - yet.
Safely deposited at her table, Mario poured Anna a glass of champagne. Before she could take a sip, Leigh and Petra tottered over, in their matching Burberry jumpsuits and Tango-tans. They air-kissed her and spoke over one another like a babbling two-headed monster, 'How are you, darling? Are you here with Anthony? We heard you and he were on a break, but we couldn't believe it. We had to see for ourselves. We just wanted to make sure you're okay'.
Anna's composure broke, just for a second, bile rose in her throat. She swallowed and smiled at the two orange assassins. The smile did not reach her eyes. 'We're fine, couldn't be better actually', she said, trying to convince herself more than anyone else. Petra and Leigh had already moved on to their next victim. Anna was left alone. She had a mouthful of champagne and wished she could leave. She had shown her face, put in an appearance, been photographed.
A hand touched her gently on the shoulder. Her heart stopped and she slowly turned. It was Patrick, the Executive Producer of her last film. Her sinking heart started again. Patrick asked her to dance. He was such a sweetie she couldn't refuse. They shuffled onto the dance floor. After a few slow revolutions, Anna saw Anthony striding across the dance floor towards her. 'Excuse me, Patrick.', he said as he grabbed Anna's wrist.
I feel better for just writing something, anything, and seeing where my story took me. It's not my usual style, but I enjoyed it.
Writing is like physical exercise in many ways. Sometimes you stop for a while and you get used to doing less. When you start again, it can be difficult and painful. Pretty soon muscle memory takes over and it gets a whole lot easier. You get into a routine and it becomes a habit. Hopefully I won't ache too much in the morning...
Do please add your link below.
There is still plenty of time to join in. You will find this week's writing prompts here.
It would be great if you could visit some, or all, of the other blogs taking part in the Write On Link Up this week. I'd love it if we could support one another in our efforts to just write.
Do come back on Wednesday when I'll be posting three new writing prompts for you. I am open to suggestions. What would you like to write about? What would you like to read about? Let me know.
In the meantime, the link up is open...