I’ve been in a bit of a dry spell lately. My last novel was released last May, and I’ve written very little since then. Book two of the Personal Demons series is an on again off again love affair, and we’re currently ignoring each other. I have a couple of ideas bouncing around in my head, but nothing I’m dying to write just yet.
So until I dig my teeth into that next manuscript, I hope to tempt and tease the Muse with some writing exercises. I’ll share those tidbits with you, dear Readers, and if there’s one you particularly like, perhaps it’ll inspire me to expand it further.
Note: these exercises will be raw and unedited. Please overlook typos, and other stream of consciousness oversights.
Without further ado, my first attempt is inspired by a random entry from a book of quotes:
“Authors are easy to get on with – if you like children” (Michael Joseph)
“You can be such a child!” Garrison snapped.
Brian stuck his tongue out while Garrison picked tiny glittery stars out of his hair.
“As I said–”
“Maybe you don’t cater to your inner child enough. I think you’ve killed him.”
“Garrison.” Brian grinned. He combed his fingers through Garrison’s unruly curls, shaking more little stars onto the floor. His smile faded as he asked, “Too much?”
With some reluctance, Garrison seemed to relax. Brian deflated; he started to apologize, but before he could get the words out, Garrison shook his head. “You’re too much.” Then he smiled. “Always, too much.”
Brian struggled between frowning and returning the smile, confused. “I’m. Sorry?”
“Don’t be.” Garrison kissed Brian’s nose, and wrapped his arms around Brian in a loose embrace. “I fell in love with too much.”
“I can tone it down.”
“No.” Garrison pulled Brian closer. “Don’t you dare change one bit.”
Garrison nuzzled Brian’s neck before meeting his gaze again. “Yes?”
“How did you get a purple star on your front tooth?”