That's the question on the cover of the Reader's Digest sitting on the back of my parent's toilet. It was an interesting article, but it didn't touch on the one thing that really makes me wonder if I might have a touch of clinical craziness in me: I like to narrate my life.
Don't worry, it's not all the time. The words never actually make it out of my mind and onto paper, and usually, it's when I'm doing the most mundane things, like brushing my teeth. I wonder if it's a writer thing.
When I thought about doing a prompt to narrate your own life, I almost brushed it off as too stupid. I mean, what's so exciting about me cooking dinner, buying groceries, or feeding the rabbit? Then I remembered a quote: "The day before your life changes forever just feels like any other day." I heard it on Switched at Birth. There is so much truth in that statement, not only in life, but also in writing.
If you start your story in the middle of the action, your readers are lost. They have no context for the scenario, they don't know the characters, and it's easier for them to simply put the book down than to try and figure it out. BUT if you set the stage beforehand, with the day before everything changes, you can draw your readers, bit by bit, into your world, so when the action happens, they're right there next to you, reading as if their lives depend on it.
So, the prompt is: Narrate a bit of your own life.
Don't worry that it's mundane. Don't worry that it's simple. Pretend this is the day before your life changes, and you're setting the scene.
Go ahead. Enjoy!
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My response:
She sat in front of the sewing machine, a formless mass of crushed blue velvet in her hands, her legs crossed in front of her. Her fingers worked the edge of the fabric, measuring, turning, pinning. Then she looked up. She eased her head to the side, as if trying to lie down on a pillow, and was rewarded with a pop. Then the other side. She rolled her shoulders.
Sighing, she looked down at the unfinished garment and laid it over the top of the sewing machine. Her fingers found the switch and turned the sewing machine off as she stood. Her eyes sought out the clock on the wall, and another sigh escaped her lips. She always took longer than she planned when she sewed, and now dinner was late. Rather than crossing to the pantry, she moved to the phone on the counter, where she kept her coupons. There had to be something there. She pursed her lips as she flipped through what she had. Pizza. Hamburgers. More pizza. Nothing healthy. Nothing really worth spending the money.
With a resigned frown, she turned to the pantry. Whole wheat pasta. Thick, chuncky spaghetti sauce. Even if it wasn't exciting, it would do the job.
(I'm actually remembering a book - THE LOST WIFE??? ... I can't remember the title right, and I didn't like it well enough to keep it, but it started almost just like this. Except then her husband didn't come home that night and she went on a cross-country trek to find him. And when she found him, she realized she didn't want him anymore. Sad.)
Anyway, I'm excited to see what you guys come up with!
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