Yesterday was the first class of the year for Writing Fiction at RMIT University. It’s kinda like a sprint: instead of meeting and settling in, we BEGAN with a writing exercise.
Michelle, our lecturer and tutor, gave us three lines. We chose one as the beginning then wrote for twenty minutes. At the end of that time we circled three things we liked about our piece of writing.
We then went into the usual first day in class business: introductions, housekeeping, assignments etcetera.
Our final portion of the class was to choose one of the three things we circled then write one hundred words with which we were happy before leaving. ‘Happy’ is a relative term…
My portion, including Michelle’s first line, is below.
I’m sharing because people have expressed interest in following my learning process.
Writing Fiction exercise week one
“Ask any anaesthetist,” she said as she adjusted the line, “every dose is like an experiment.”
The long white lines of powder glistened in the harsh fluorescent lights, a macabre sculpture evoking images of bleached veins, remnants upon a sacrificial altar.
An experiment? No, a sacrifice.
I stared at her like a rabbit staring at the headlights of an oncoming car before the inevitable impact.
Her mouth moved, she was speaking but the roaring engine drowned her meaning.
She lovingly caressed one line with a straw, snorting loudly.
I could hear once more… had the threat passed me by, leaving me trembling but intact in its wake?
Beauty morphed into the beast as she whooped with delight, whirling in front of the mirror behind the washbasins. Her nose dripped blood, despoiling the porcelain tiles.
