Skip to main content

Setting the Stage

         My daddy challenged me to think about the props used in a play to create a scene, and to incorporate that into my writing.  Let me demonstrate what I mean:

      April pulled the cord of the lamp on her nightstand and flopped across her bed. Her homework lay neglected on the top of her dresser, but April was too tired to care.

      Can you tell where she is? Why?

    
      The wind blew cold across Dylan's skin, and he shivered. Snow was starting to fall. In another two hundred yards, he would climb above the treeline and leave the sheltering pines behind him.  He hoped the camp was waiting for him and that his captain had a fire going.

     Can your imagination build the scene?  How?



     Plays can't actually transport you to different locations.  Instead, they put props on the stage so that the audience understands where they are supposed to be.

     For Tevye's bedroom, you might have a bed, a nightstand, and a dresser.
http://sacramento365.files.wordpress.com/2012/08/fiddlerontheroof3_small.jpg Golde and Tevye night shirts and hats for Dream scene
     For Maria's escape over the alps, you should have a backdrop of mountains.
The final scene from the Sound of Music
 
     Use this in your writing.  Create the scene by including the necessary props.  In this way, you provide the essence of location without a minute description.  In the scenes above, you could picture a bedroom in one and a wintry mountain in the other.  Why?  I included a few items that your mind associated with certain locations.
     Try it.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Hard Goodbye

     "You're more poet than anything." I folded my arms and glared at Ian.  He sat perched on the edge of the roof, dressed like an adventurer.  I coveted every part of his outfit -- the breezy shirt made of course cloth, the sturdy breeches, the leather boots that laced up to his calves, the dagger on his hip.  Tomorrow he would set sail to a life I craved more than anything.  But did he appreciate his opportunities?  No. And I hated him for it.      "Do you despise poets, Ingrid?"  His voice was sad, but a grin twisted at the corners of his mouth as he finished his question.  Those blue eyes of his cut in my direction with a teasing flash.       "They don't DO anything."  My thoughts and emotions ran in torrents, but I could see his flowing smoothly and quietly.  Even in his uneasiness about the morrow, his face was a peaceful as a child falling asleep in his own bed.     ...

The Countdown: Eight Days

Eight days.  Do you know what that means?  Barely over a week.  Tomorrow will be one week from the announcement date. Are you excited? I am. So, today, I want to talk to those who wrote something for the contest, whether or not you entered it in the end. What made you start writing your story?  What was the first inkling of an idea that tickled your brain?  What was it that you liked about your premise?  As you wrote, did you have a favorite character or a favorite scene?  And are you glad you wrote it down?  Do you feel like you learned and grew in your ability as a writer as you tried out things for this contest? And, if your story isn't included in this year's Rooglewood anthology (either because you didn't submit it or because it didn't fit with the other four stories selected), what will you do with it?  Will you market it elsewhere?  Or will you lock it away in a drawer?

Goodbye and God Be With You

It's rather fitting that some things come to a close on this day -- the last day of the year. I submitted my last entry into the Rooglewood contest this morning.  I can hardly believe it took me until the day of the deadline to send it in because I'm usually earlier than that.  And, even with the extra time I took, I still felt a little bit like maybe I could have done better if I had more time. But there was no feeling of regret when I hit "send."  Mostly it was just a prayer that Rooglewood would hear the heart of the message when they read it and that maybe, if I win, they could help me bring the full potential out of my little story.  And there was also a feeling, after working on these stories for more than six months, that it felt good to close that chapter and move on to the next one. I did it.  I wrote them.  And I'm really proud of them. Last year, the act of hitting "send" on my contest entry catapulted me into an anticipatory state....