Filthy #DailyPost #WritersWednesday

Today’s prompt

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“Of course, you have to explore their past: those characters of yours have a past, hidden from you, so far. You need to discover it, understand it, get into some of the less palatable truths about them. Don’t just see them squeakily clean on the blank page! Look, look for the filth, the deplorable, the inexcusable.”

She spoke, in this charming but imperative voice my muse has, when the rain falls, and I am stuck in getting the novel back moving again. She’s right, she always is.

“And, by the way, if your discoveries, what they were once up to, the skeletons in their briefcase, lead you to question their virtue, don’t hesitate! The hero is less than perfect! Good! In fact he is a coward, or was, or might be again: lovely! What will attract the attention of a discerning reader is, is precisely what makes her that little better, more adjusted, thus a touch sexier, than that character of yours!”

I will follow her advice, much work in perspective, and maybe, by digging through the filth, I’ll find the gems?

Flames #DailyPrompt

Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.

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The old man turns the pages of his album: they are all there, from tiny five by five black and white photos, already mellowed by age, to the bright shots he took at the height of his, and their, seductive power. Beaches, venerable ruins, busy streets, lonely mountain peaks: so many stages he took them to, willing, sometime a little anxious…

He smiles at them, all those gorgeous girlfriends, and they appear to smile back. But is there some sarcasm in their eyes?

Old fool, are you still kidding yourself?

 

Photo: “We are not mad. We are human. We want to love, and someone must forgive us for the paths we take to love, for the paths are many and dark, and we are ardent and cruel in our journey.” – Leonard Cohen, via                  david-f-locke            

Daily Prompt: Earworm ~ #WritersWednesday ~

Write whatever you normally write about, and weave in a book quote, film quote, or song lyric that’s been sticking with you this week.

My chair

Ma chair on chair ©K.rine Burckel

As Gorgeous and I finalise our summer plan, the lyrics of the Bravest Man and the voice of Bobby Womack are following my steps through the day…

“In the universe
Is the one who has forgiven first
he bravest man in the universe
I got a story I want to tell
Gather round me
Gather round me boys and girls

I once was lost
But now I’m found
Whe I beer uṗ so high
I always know how to come down

The bravest man in the Universe
Is the one who has forgiven first
Yeah
Shame on me, shame on you
It’s up to us
What we say and what we do

Would you stay in the sun
Would you stay in the sun much too long
You try to find the shade
Shade that makes you feel at home

The bravest man in the Universe
Is the one who can forgiven first
The bravest man in the Universe
Oh ah
The bravest man in the Universe”

I find the words inspiring, his voice enthralling. So, how about the plan? Well, soon we are free. Just one more week and she’s free to go… Cool evenings and endless nights will be ours. We attend our son’s graduation first week in August, one birthday party, and then we are off to Northern Germany, and endless photo shoots. No, dear readers, not all the pics will be made public!! But you’ll see some. Then Berlin, our city, with Sarah, and later, Elsa, who I hope will be my model for the Melissa book. What a prospect! In the meantime, more work on the synopsis for Elsa, more writing on the novel, and some pics!

Let’s enjoy this late summer…

And still the bravest man in the Universe…

Daily Prompt: Silver Linings

Write about something you consider “ugly” — war, violence, failure, hatred — but try to find beauty, or a sense of hope, in your thoughts.

Uchi-mata As she placed her throw she knew she’d applied too much strength: the other girl went flying – it was perfect. But Penelope, as she bowed, was already full of remorse: her adversary was lying inert surrounded by three medics.

The umpire said: “A beautiful uchi-mata, Miss B, but of course no-one in your category could have parred this!” Penelope bowed low. Then the thought hit her: she had won her third dan.

She knelt near her beaten competitor: the girl was crying but breathing. So Penelope said to her ear: “I will show you, you will know how to use this, in a way that no-one will resist.”

Daily Prompt: Elevator

You’re stuck in an elevator with an intriguing stranger. Write this scene.

 

Contract I am always embarrassed when I am confined in a small space, and never more than when this space is shared with a lady I don’t know. It’s my size, you see, I can’t shrink and I am a big man, not fat mind you, but just huge, tall and square…

So that day as the lift stopped, the doors opened and she walked in, all glamour and wonderful scent, I tried to smile and make myself as inconspicuous as I could, and I felt her smile all over my frame, top down. She asked me to press the key to the 21st floor. Which I did.

The lift stops at my floor, no 14. I smiled again and as I was stepping out she said: “Why don’t you follow me to my floor?” Taken aback I replied politely: “How may I help you Madame?” – “Oh, nothing you should worry about”, she said with a wolfish grin, “let me introduce myself: Laura King, literary agent… I am pleased to meet you Mr Dupuis.” I thought of the badge on my lapel. We shook hands as the lift restarted its climb.

So I met my agent. The rest is my little story.

Daily Prompt: Green-Eyed Monster

Tell us about the last time you were really, truly jealous of someone. Did you act on it? Did it hurt your relationship?  

ParisI admire him, he is the father, the imperious maître, perhaps the last of the Renaissance men. And you loved him, you loved him beyond your life, and for him you wrote the story. He wrote: the most fearsome love letter a man ever received; he knew, and he wanted that letter to be known. You, pliant, at his feet, the loyal woman to your last breath, you obliged, for our pleasure. Am I jealous? How could I be: I was then that small boy, who was learning to read, who was dreaming, not big enough yet to be a soldier. Much later, it would be my turn to read the letter, and, like him, my turn to go to war. I cannot be jealous of a father, I wish only I could remember you through his eyes, for now, it is my turn to love you.