Hi all,

Thanks to yesterday's contributor  - Martin Dixon, and thank you for the kind comments, I will pass them on.

Today's writing was in response to a request to "show" a character from one of my stories.

This exercise is to give you an example of how you should "know" your protagonist before you write about them.

Most writers put themselves within their character, this helps them as they are able to show how they would react to certain stresses and situations.

This make the character "real" and their story more believable.
If you don't follow this rule, then your reader is less likely to invest in your story and care for the "star"

A good example of some-one who does this a lot is Stephen King, think of how many of his stories are about writers !

So today, I've taken a character out of a short story called, "Under Achiever". 
Read the prose and see if you can work out :-

• What he looks like ?
• Where does he live ?
• Who does he live with ?
• What is their relationship ?
• What has happened ?
• Is he happy ?

I have purposely not "told you" these facts, but in turn, via the writing, I've endeavoured to show.

Let me know your thoughts, and, if it works.

Godfrey

The alarm carves into Godfrey's sleep like a bacon slicer.

Yawns and reaches finds the cup.

Hot tea scalds him into consciousness.

Blinks away a dream and lets the world focus around him.

Airfix planes on invisible nylon covered in the clouds of dust gently sway.

Posters of long relegated football teams yellowed, curl away from the damp.

A bedspread made with love shows swirls and colours, Joseph's techni-colour anecdote.

Mum’s warbling climbs up on a plume of steam.

The supplier and the dealer,

The bedspread mountains over him, a peak…although no view for his toes.

Stretch and throw back the cocoon, dust motes dance in the sun….confetti confirming morning.

Looks at last night’s reading and sighs……the latest starvation fad, reinforcement of a 1st world problem.

Clothes folded and fresh smile up from the altar of the chair.

Always there, with the tea.

Mum’s magic, the house ninja.

Dressing. Shirt white, trousers black, belt and braces just like Dad…… socks darned although never seen on feet.

The doorway passed through, skimmed by stooped hair.

Plodded size 12’s to the bathroom….

Pee like a horse.

No shave, a comb ran around the face.

Teeth brushed.

Size 12 descends as the body pinballs off the narrow stair walls.

Kitchen smells, grease, steam, bacon eggs.

One place set, there used to be 2.

She busies and bustles the queen bee.

No word no glances, all is ready.

He sits and consumes and as he does, she starts to twitter. He only half hears, the rhetoric is cyclical and although the same is always on shuffle.

Finishing he stands, 6 hands above her, he stoops and kisses that well-worn cheek.

The dealer passes the stash, eggy bready treats in a lunchtime box.

He waves goodbye and closes the door, it sticks so he has to slam.... that would have been fixed, before.

I will publish the story that this character is in shortly.

In the meantime, send in your work via the contact bar or email :-

neville.raper@gmail.com.

Remember, Like, Subscribe, Share