Writing

Writing is hard, but it is also cathartic – much like taking medicine or exercising. You don’t want to do it, but after you do, you are glad you did. And if you do a little every day, it helps.

So “Write Anyway” – my little addition to the 451 Press Channel Blogs – will be a combination of prompts, encouragement, constructive criticism, and examples of writing (my own and otherwise). I will use a variety of sources (and yes, I will cite them) for ideas, but also draw on my surroundings and experiences. I am hoping that readers will find inspiration from the prompts to write, too, and either post links to their blogs – so I can read their posts and comment – or put their writing efforts in the comments section for everyone to read and continue the conversation.

So let’s get started:

Prompt for February 9, 2007: “Write about someone who is pretending to be someone or something that he is not.” (From “The Pocket Muse” by Monica Wood)

(20-minute time limit)

Jack stood in the entryway of the room and realized he didn’t know a soul. The social was an “adult mixer” – kind of like a networking event and people from all occupations were there to meet new friends, find a new lover, or advance their business. He immediately regretted attending.

Putting his initial reaction aside, Jack walked up to a pretty blonde. She was holding a drink and fidgeting with a paper napkin.

“Hello. I’m Jack.” He extended his hand for a business-like handshake and looked the woman in the eyes. He could see the woman was older than he originally guessed; she wore heavy makeup and was probably a little drunk. She didn’t meet his gaze.

“Um. Hi.” The woman transferred her drink from her right hand to her left and took Jack’s. It was cold and damp from the glass.

“So,” Jack ignored the fact that the woman did not offer her name. “Are you here with a company? I’m new to the city and I’m hoping to make a few business contacts.”

No response.

“I’m a trial lawyer,” Jack offered.

The woman smiled weakly and sighed, “No. Would you excuse me please?” Without waiting for an answer, she staggered off.

Jack made his way to the bar and ordered a beer. A man in a sharp-looking suit turned on his bar stool and acknowledged Jack’s presence – as guys do – by nodding, not smiling, and then looking away.

Jack tried again. “Hi. I’m Jack. Are you here for the social?”

“Yeah. But I don’t think I’m going to stay. There is a company party by the pool that looks like a lot more fun.”

The bartender brought Jack’s beer. The men stared into their drinks, the silence between them awkward. Jack turned to face the room and leaned on the bar. He decided to introduce himself.

“I’m Jack, by the way.” He offered his hand.

The man took it and replied, “Nice to meet you, Jack. I’m Henry. I’m in sales.”

“Really. Me too. What company do you work for?”

They talked for a few minutes about cold calls and crappy bosses. Then the man finished his drink quickly and mumbled something about the men’s room.

Jack turned to the group of three men standing on the other side of him.

“Hi. I’m Jack. I’m a writer.”