Picture Prompt

Last April I attended the SCBWI conference in Boise, Idaho.  In a workshop with Alane Ferguson, we were given a picture as a writing prompt.  I used that prompt as inspiration for my next novel – one about sea nymphs.  My friend, who actually brought me to the conference, used the same picture as her inspiration for her next novel – about grave robbers who find people who have been buried alive.  I love that we looked at the same picture and saw two very different things. 

So, this week, I'd like to use a picture as our prompt.  I got this from the wonderful Julie Fain:

http://www.juliefain.com

Ok, go!

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My Response:

The wind was hot on my skin, and thick with moisture.  The twins, though I'd tucked their blankets up under their little chins when I'd put them to bed, had quickly tossed them off in the roving of their dreams.  I left them in the stone cottage, pulling the door closed behind me, but leaving the two shuttered windows open to let the wind, warm as it was, blow in.

The summer had been good to us, and heavy heads of wheat patted my hips as I passed through the field.  Reaching the meadow, I bent and plucked the lavender that grew there.  The smell of it filled the air as the stems broke, and I thought of home.  How long would it be before my mom would see my boys?  Years, maybe.  The distance was too great to travel frequently.  When the day did come, I knew if Boran and Boaz didn't recognize her face, they would smell the familiar lavender on her skin and be comforted.

I stood, wiping my palms on my skirt, before pressing on over the hill.  I told myself I was going to gather more sorrel, but I couldn't believe my own lie.  I wanted to see the ocean, to check one more time.  Kaleb wasn't late.  He and his brother had left with many of the able bodied men from the village just after the crops were in the ground.

When Kaleb had come to my home, only three years ago, after negotiating my bride price with my father, he'd arranged for his own brother to come back for my sister, Alana.  It was a long journey, but Kaleb always said my beauty was worth the trip.  Cared, after seeing how hard I worked, and especially after I'd blessed our house with two sons, had agreed.

Watching Kaleb go had torn my heartstrings, but I had been strong, for my sons.  I worked in the fields, cared for our small flock, and kept our house throughout the day.  In the silence of the evening, though, with the boys in bed and the light of day dimming, my heart left me and went in search of the two people who were most dear to me, Kaleb and Alana.

A small trickle of sweat rolled down my back, and I frowned at the smeared dirt on my hand as I crested the hill.  A small grove of birch trees stood just on the windward side of the hill.  I kept my eyes down as I walked up to them, then stopped, pressing my palm against the smooth bark.  I stopped here every night, knowing that if I looked up, I would be able to see out across the bay.  I shuddered in the heat, dreading the disappointment of looking across the water and finding it smooth and undisturbed.  I shut my eyes and took a deep breath.

Before I opened my eyes, I had my answer.

"Kayla!"

Kaleb's voice carried across the waves in the wind, and I threw myself down the hill towards the shore.  I could see Alana's small figure crouched in the front of Cared's canoe.  Finally, both of them were here.  My heart had returned to me

Hello!  Let's jump right into things, shall we?

Prompt: He’d never noticed a door there before.

From: http://www.dailywritingtips.com/writing-prompts-101/

I'm going to try and find (or come up with) playful creative writing prompts.  This one appealed to me because I've just finished reading Suzanne Collin's "Underlander" series, and it reminded me of how her main character, Gregor, finds a doorway to a different world.  Your doorway doesn't have to lead to a new world.  In fact, I think my character may find the door locked …

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My response:

It was behind the blackberry bushes that rose, large and overgrown, at the back of the garden.  Blackberry jam had been her favorite, but since she'd been gone, the gardener had found other things to occupy his time.  Still, Alec glanced around to make sure no one was watching before he tried the handle. 

He had to push several of the branches aside, and the thorns caught on the sleeve of his wool coat.  The door was wooden, made with thick planks that looked like they might be oak.  The brass handle was cold in his hand.  It wouldn't turn. 

Alec jiggled the handle, then looked up around the door frame.  It looked like it should open inward, so he pulled.  Jiggle, pull.  Pull, jiggle.  The door didn't budge.  Alec furrowed his brow and frowned.

"What are you doing there?"

Alec startled at the voice behind him.  He whipped around and pressed himself up against the door handle.  The knob and a few thorns pushed into his back in his futile attempt to hide the door.  He didn't even know why he was trying to hide it …

"Alec?  What are you doing back here?  A stable boy has no business in the gardens.  Get on back to the barn, before someone else catches you and accuses you of stealing the Master's produce!"

Relief flooded through Alec's limbs.  It was just Gregor, the busboy. 

Alec nodded, then launched himself away from the door and sprinted back towards the stables.

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I wrote this a few days ago, and looking back at it today, I realized I use the word "look" way too much. 

I'm also thinking I may post a list of names down the sidebar of the blog, just so I can pick and choose a name quickly.  Sometimes my characters come to me with names, but sometimes I have to search and search before I find something fitting (and sometimes even then, I end up changing it again).

I'm excited to see what everyone else comes up with!