* Nancy's
thoughts were so newly formed that the cynicism had not had time to
dry. It dripped from the freshly-hewn words, splattering the optimism
of the following pages.
Quilters have their stacks of “some day” fabric, woodworkers their scraps “too nice” to discard, seamstresses their jars of "special" buttons Writers have their notebooks of “metaphors,” “transitions,” “characters,” etc., filled with scratchings and ideas that appeared--often unbidden--like literary puppies on their doorsteps. Among my finished pieces below I've scattered some of my "snippets." They are literary whimsy, not meant to be philosophical or even consistent with each other.
Showing posts with label Snippets. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Snippets. Show all posts
Sunday, July 10, 2016
Life As a Writer
- She worried that she wasn’t even doing a good job of writing poorly.
Self-image
- As a cruel child might use a magnifying glass and the rays of the sun on unsuspecting ants, his sister used trumped-up accusations and certitude to immolate his last vestige of self-worth.
Skeptical Happiness
- A ray of happiness snuck through the storm clouds of his depression, momentarily blinding him.
- Luke felt irrationally happy. It worried him that he didn’t know why.
- Occasionally Penelope played at being happy. But mostly she preferred the familiarity of despair.
- The Prince’s happiness was only exceeded by his skepticism of its durability.
- Happiness was such a new experience that Anne wanted to grab every sad person she encountered and make them a convert.
- Tom concluded that “happiness” was an imprecise concept, equally applicable to how he felt after completing a marathon or having good sex. He had heard others use the term after “meeting the right person” or seeing their child overcome some personal obstacle.
Innocence
- I experienced a momentary feeling of innocence none of us truly has past the age of one.
- Children take no credit for their innocence. Not only didn’t they create it, they eschew it, disposing of it at the first opportunity.
- Lydia wore her innocence as she wore Aunt Agatha’s diamond-studded brooch- prominently, but as something not discussed by those of good breeding.
- Anthony wondered, “If I contemplate giving up my innocence, perhaps I already have. Can a truly innocent person conceive of abandoning it?”
- Portia shed her innocence with no more thought than she’d give to removing her raincoat when a storm had passed.
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