A shoe drabble
Shoes
She is dreaming of shoes. Brown-and-white I.Miller spectator pumps. Johnston and Murphy two-inch heels, the leather butter soft. She is walking down the street in her new alligator shoes with the matching purse, the brown velvet dress she copied from the one in the store window, the hat with the peacock feathers. She is pulling up the socks that slip down her ankles, admiring the shiny dimes in her penny loafers. She is jitterbugging half the night, her scuffed saddle oxfords flying.
She is pulling opaque support stockings over her blotched and swollen ankles and velcroing on clunky walking shoes.
I'll admit to having stolen Bean's body for him. Yum.
Yum indeed. But what I was getting off your description was more Sharpe's (a sergeant's, I suppose) diffidence and deference in the company of a 'lady". Which, as Bean played it, was a lovely thing to behold.
But what I was getting off your description was more Sharpe's (a sergeant's, I suppose) diffidence and deference in the company of a 'lady". Which, as Bean played it, was a lovely thing to behold.
Yes, and while Jack isn't particularly Sharpe-like in most ways, he has that.
I think I may have to get out my Sharpe DVDs and look for such a scene. Strictly for research purposes, of course.
(grinning) Research. Of course!
Such devotion, Susan. You're an inspiration...
I'm a hormone bomb. This drabble will be written, as I go, in one pass. Editing and word-counting is for losers.
I lace up my shoe, wondering if she will like them. But why, I think, do I care? I know that she likes me, I know I like her, so why do I worry about shoes? My mind is stubborn, though, and I wonder if she'll like my pants. I know it doesn't matter, I know she won't care, but still... I wonder. My pants, my shirt, my clean-and-fresh smell...will she like them? Will she see me, and judge me, and find me to be worthy? Or will she see me as my mind sees me - ugly, awkward, and strange?
Stop it! Relax! You know that she won't! You're good, you're nice, she likes you! She does!
I lace up my other shoe, and I wonder... Will she like them?
Oh, dear, poor Nova. But a fun drabble.
Ginger, yours was major with the ouchie.
Yet another question for the writerly hivemind:
What do y'all see as the ethics of improving someone's writing when they're trying to land a position that requires writing skill? I know that in my resume/cover letter business, I'd refuse to edit or write materials for someone with poor language skills if they were applying for a job that requires a lot of writing. Making them look like a good writer would be unfair to both them and the employer. So far it hasn't been an issue--most of the people I work with are perfectly good writers who just need a little help marketing themselves.
But as I look for more ways to earn money, I've stumbled upon a gray area or two--editing college admissions essays and being a book doctor. Part of me thinks that if you're not a good enough writer to turn out an essay that'll earn you admission to an elite university without help, you have no business going there. But DH thinks that's like saying it's wrong to take a Kaplan course to improve your SAT or to hire a hitting coach to improve your chances of getting signed by a baseball team. And as for book doctoring, I feel like it's OK for nonfiction, because maybe the author is the world expert on some fascinating topic, but needs help communicating it. But with fiction, it just feels different somehow.
Thoughts?
(blink)
Befuddled here. Someone is applying specifically to a writing school, is writing and submitting a piece of fiction in order to get into the school, and is asking you to doctor it?
