When I read something I wrote a while back, it amazes me that sometimes I’m not completely sure I was really the one who wrote it.
Does this happen to you? You get lost in the writing and think, “Oh, good point” or “Oh, I like that” and then it hits you that YOU wrote it. Of course, this is the point of setting your writing aside to come back to it with fresh eyes. I just find it funny every time it happens. And on the other hand, it makes me happy that I wrote something I still enjoy reading, even years later.
This past year, I took an online class about showing versus telling in which we had to write several exercises. The first was to show the same scene from two different points of view and the second was to use the senses to show the setting. I found them recently, so here’s to looking at them with fresh eyes.
POV 1- This time I went for a little more force when I shoved him against that locker. It made him wince, but I stood tough with my chest out and my chin up high. I hoped the right people were watching- the ones that would cheer me on, not the ones that would try to tell me it was wrong. When he didn’t have my money ready, I clenched my fists, and then I shoved him again.
POV 2- My head hit the locker, harder this time, and he leaned in close to my face. I could feel the fear rushing through me, but no one ever seemed to notice it in my dispirited eyes. As I fumbled in my pocket for the money, I looked up to see his nostrils flaring, so I braced myself for another push. I stood frozen for a minute, and then I lowered my head for the long walk down the hall.
The smell of hamburger lingered near my nose. I held my breath. “I’ll take the Gardenburger please,” I said.
“Don’t you ever just want a hamburger?” asked Sierra.
The dill pickles on her hamburger didn’t mask the smell. Neither did the spicy mustard, although that I didn’t mind so much.
“No. If I wanted a piece of cow, I would eat it.” I smiled as I squirted gobs of Heinz 57 on the bun. I leaned down just enough to take a big sniff of ketchup. I held my lips tight so the walk through the fog of hamburger smell wouldn’t be so bad.