Can you make Elmore Leonard cry?
Saturday, January 28th, 2012 04:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
serai.
CBC is sponsoring a contest for writers: write an opening sentence that breaks as many of Elmore Leonard's rules for writers as possible. There are ten rules, all of them quite reasonable, which is what makes it so much fun to try and break them all.
I'm not sure, but I think I managed to hit all of them in my entry, which I am posting here for your amusement:
Dark, weighty clouds burgeoning with cold and depressing rain and sleet always reminded Suzy of the little house on the edge of Tanglewood Forest (a mysterious place long known for its confusing paths, where a hundred years ago a young woodcutter had been lost for over three weeks, returning with strange tales of odd little men who danced in the moonlight and offered him cheese biscuits filled with grape jelly) overgrown with vines and surrounded by meadow flowers and dandelions, thickets of roses and violets, and forget-me-nots so plentiful in the bright sunshine of a summer day, whose perfume often goaded her blue-eyed, six-foot-tall, gimpy granpa into fits when he'd thunder, "Dang!! Them fla'rs is gibbem me de sneezles!!!" which always resulted in her gray-haired, green-eyed, petite but primly grimacing granny suddenly saying, "Will ya quit yer yappin'?", seemingly never remembering that this very response would cause all hell, inevitably, to break loose.
Heehee! I love writing these things. Nothing like an excuse to get really purple!
CBC is sponsoring a contest for writers: write an opening sentence that breaks as many of Elmore Leonard's rules for writers as possible. There are ten rules, all of them quite reasonable, which is what makes it so much fun to try and break them all.
I'm not sure, but I think I managed to hit all of them in my entry, which I am posting here for your amusement:
Dark, weighty clouds burgeoning with cold and depressing rain and sleet always reminded Suzy of the little house on the edge of Tanglewood Forest (a mysterious place long known for its confusing paths, where a hundred years ago a young woodcutter had been lost for over three weeks, returning with strange tales of odd little men who danced in the moonlight and offered him cheese biscuits filled with grape jelly) overgrown with vines and surrounded by meadow flowers and dandelions, thickets of roses and violets, and forget-me-nots so plentiful in the bright sunshine of a summer day, whose perfume often goaded her blue-eyed, six-foot-tall, gimpy granpa into fits when he'd thunder, "Dang!! Them fla'rs is gibbem me de sneezles!!!" which always resulted in her gray-haired, green-eyed, petite but primly grimacing granny suddenly saying, "Will ya quit yer yappin'?", seemingly never remembering that this very response would cause all hell, inevitably, to break loose.
Heehee! I love writing these things. Nothing like an excuse to get really purple!
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Date: Sunday, January 29th, 2012 02:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: Sunday, January 29th, 2012 06:26 pm (UTC)