fun writing prompt game. U Got The ‘Look’ asks you to take your current manuscript, search for the word ‘look’, and post the surrounding paragraphs. Finally, you tag five authors to share their work and continue the game.
Jane’s timing on this game was impeccable as I just finished writing the sequel to A Complicated Life in a Small Town. I don’t even have a title for it yet but here is a peek:
“An online search was all it took for Lydia to find out where her father was buried and she wasn’t impressed. On the way to Holy Cross Cemetery in Anamosa Iowa, she thought about all the frightening
nights she had spent at that cemetery in high school. There were some trees in the distance, but one tree stood alone. In the evening hours many people would spot a little girl playing by this lone tree. When the girl would look up and notice people watching her, she would climb up the tree quickly like a wild animal and could then be seen hanging with a rope around her neck from one of the branches. People claimed the tree was used many years ago for hangings and it was also said that the tree stood on Indian burial grounds.”
And to answer your question....no this isn't a ghost story.
The following five people can consider themselves Tagged! If you
don’t have a blog or don’t want to go through the trouble of finding a place to post you can email to me (firstname.lastname@example.org) and I would be happy to post on my blog but be sure to send a link to your book as well.
Tommy B. Smith
------------------------------------------------------------ Susan Dorsey was kind enough to send me her U Got The Look paragraph. Wait till you see this!
"Are you okay? You don't look so good, Jane. And what on earth did you do to your hand?" Jane looked up at her reflection and grimaced. She did look a little worse for the wear. She'd been up most of the night trying to keep Little Deborah, Little Donna, and Little Franklin all in their respective boxes. It was well after three before she had finally been
able to get some sleep. Even then, she didn't sleep well. She dreamed that she was in the barn. The air smelled of roses and musty earth.
Someone was standing behind her whispering a phrase over and over again. Jane couldn't make out the words, but she could feel the soft brush of breath against her neck. Just as she had steeled herself to turn around and look behind her, the alarm clock had gone off.
Great job Jane - I can't wait to read this one!