Tagged: young woman

The Good Writers are Liars 0

A young woman sits across the courtyard from me. I don’t know what she is thinking. She could be examining the pitfalls of a date, wishing for a new pair of shoes, dreaming about a world trip, or worrying about how to pay rent. I don’t know. But I can imagine.

The best writers fill in the blanks.

What would a protagonist do if they happened to be a young Korean girl who just found out she is going blind? She may have ticks, or habits, or peculiar ways of doing things. Those details certainly will add to the milieu, the setting, or the way she goes about her day. Deeper, how will she struggle or triumph despite her blindness? I know how I would react if I suddenly found myself blind! And I imagine, it will not be too hard to tell my reader about my feelings.

That’s why a story generator only provides a character, a plot, and an ending; we must fill in the blanks with anything that will fill the senses. The best writers know how to tell a story, which most of the time requires making it up. The good writers are simply good liars; they know how to embellish a story so you will never find them out.

A Diamond in Her Eye 0




“You’ll never get me to tell you where the jewels are,” the child said. She leaned back and smirked.

Too much television, thought the inspector. He sat down across from her rattling the metal chair against the table in the interrogation room. The girl leaned forward. She glared at him. The stare-off went on for a few minutes until he leaned forward.

The girl pushed back pinning her arms into the rests. She was a small child with her hair tied back in a blue ribbon. She looked just like the picture sitting on the table next to him. Below her, the marble floor stretched out nearly a foot from her feet. She casually kicked the legs of the chair. Barely seven years and so far the kid had stuck to her resolve.

An older inspector, Don Sexton, had grandchildren her age. If anyone could play grandpa it was him.

He drew a cartoon hand of a large rabbit holding a carrot. The rabbit took an angry bite. Bits of carrot flew out of the rabbit’s mouth. The angry rabbit sported a fluffy cotton tail. The little girl put her hands on the table. She drew closer to the drawing.

“What’s his name?” she asked.

“Sergeant Baker,” he replied.

The girl studied the drawing.

“He needs a badge, or something.” she said.

Inspector Sexton added a badge above the mark identifying the rabbit’s belly button. The girl shook her head no. She eyed the drawing with skepticism.

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