“For an instance Wilfred Allsop’s face lit up, as that of the poet Shelley whom he so closely resembled must have done when realised that ‘blithe spirit’ rhymes with ‘near it,’ not that it does, and another ode as good as off the assembly line. “
Saturday morning I woke early, as is my habit, lured by the promise of a day free of pressing commitment. I woke with the knowledge that we had no coffee in the house, so my first task was to hop on my fine silver bike and pedal through our quiet urban neighborhood to buy dark roasted beans for my wife who would wake within the hour, a singular thought in her mind: “Where’s the coffee?” Night had left the air refreshed and cool, rinsed of heat and moisture, and the morning breeze softened it even more. The hour meant the streets were empty, giving me license to ride down their center, ignoring the stop signs. The birds provided the only noise. A house wren called as I left my yard, a tiny bird with a chattering magnificent call, and two blocks later another wren sang, a competitor, declaring that I had entered a new territory. As I locked my bike in front of the store, an old friend walked across the street, destined for the same store, though he had walked some distance to get there. He obviously liked mornings, too.
I had a great weekend, and I am excited I discovered your website. Looking to be more awesome.
Dennis Cass Wants You To Be More Awesome is a secret blend of ideas, advice and support for writers and artists.
Right now we're into paragraphs.
To ask a question, point out an error or upbraid me for hatin' on pageant moms, please contact me at DENNIS dot CASS at GMAIL dot COM.
Final note: effective December 10, 2009 the words on this site come courtesy of MacSpeech Dictate voice recognition software, so if things get weird BLAME THE MACHINE.
It is like Twin Peaks moved to central Florida and picked up a fairy tale on the way.
From the master of metaphor, P.G. Wodehouse:
“For an instance Wilfred Allsop’s face lit up, as that of the poet Shelley whom he so closely resembled must have done when realised that ‘blithe spirit’ rhymes with ‘near it,’ not that it does, and another ode as good as off the assembly line. “
@mapelba: I was thinking about the prose inside the manuscript, but I like this mentality for pitches as well.
@angiebee: Thanks for the Wodehouse! Love it. That little phrase “must have done” let’s you get away with ANYTHING.
Saturday morning I woke early, as is my habit, lured by the promise of a day free of pressing commitment. I woke with the knowledge that we had no coffee in the house, so my first task was to hop on my fine silver bike and pedal through our quiet urban neighborhood to buy dark roasted beans for my wife who would wake within the hour, a singular thought in her mind: “Where’s the coffee?” Night had left the air refreshed and cool, rinsed of heat and moisture, and the morning breeze softened it even more. The hour meant the streets were empty, giving me license to ride down their center, ignoring the stop signs. The birds provided the only noise. A house wren called as I left my yard, a tiny bird with a chattering magnificent call, and two blocks later another wren sang, a competitor, declaring that I had entered a new territory. As I locked my bike in front of the store, an old friend walked across the street, destined for the same store, though he had walked some distance to get there. He obviously liked mornings, too.
I had a great weekend, and I am excited I discovered your website. Looking to be more awesome.