You know how it’s cool to have a space to just do your own thing? Well, on some Saturday afternoon’s, I attend a creative writing workshop to do just that. This is one of the pieces of work from one of the workshops. Not every piece of work in this category will be complete, although I might feel compelled to carry it on after the workshop. Hell, they might not even be good, but in the interests of showing a vague creative process and its product, well it’ll go up on here anyhow. And for good measure, I’ll try and explain the exercises that led to the work (and at this point, I’m starting to know a thing or two about those).
Just under two years ago there was a workshop with a fun premise; make a list of things you might find in a pocket. The list was expectedly varied, the item I remember the most being a fish in a bag. After the communally-built list had enough ideas, we had to pick a handful. Here’s mine: dragon egg, hamster, business card (not own), drawing of a ghost, Allen key, a shell. After this we had to try and make sense of it all through making a character who would possess these items. The notes I had were quite scattered, but for full disclosure:
Of course not everything you note down ends up ‘making it in’. Or maybe you just didn’t have the time to include it. Anyhow, before uploading writing that comes from these workshops, I’ve thought about going back and adding any content, besides just fixing up stuff here and there. I want to in this case, but honestly I don’t know where to go to next. At 350 words it manages to be a nice little contained scene, where you get an idea for the world and some of the weird stuff that goes on. There’s a lot taken for granted, but also some things that are just put in there to sound amusing because the thing is, when I’m writing in that space I don’t really think about what I would do afterwards, more just getting out anything that sounds good in my head. A process I’m sure most of the people who go to these workshops go through too. So here’s what I did. I hope you enjoy.
The Hamster’s Pet (31/5/14)
We had just arrived in Luxembourg when Maurissa insisted that we start trying to sell some of our goods before we went to the hotel. Bless her little heart. Well, relatively speaking it is obviously much larger than mine. Yes, anyhow, I distinctly remember seeing a flock of dragon-kin brushing past one of the taller buildings, yelping annoyingly as they went by. Fearsome, ugly things really, but there you go. In the time spent observing this, I had not noticed Maurissa had stopped and started speaking to a stranger. My elocution lessons were being shown to be unsuccessful.
“Uhhhh, well, y’see, this ‘ere dragon egg is from a rare breed, yes indeed! Bred by legendary dragon trainer Marsel Deronkus.” Her foreign accent was jarring, despite the cosmopolitan location.
“I very much doubt that, miss.” The stout, roundly man responded with as much sincerity as fat on his bones. Instead of walking away and going to the darn hotel as I was secretly pleading for us to do so, with the hand tucked behind her blue and red blouse, she clicked her fingers and looked steely eyed into the man opposite.
“I ummm, really think you’ll want this, sir. Only 5 gold pieces too!” Her pitch was as elevated as much as two octaves up, possibly three.
“Wow, what a deal!” The man sputtered out his words, in between his necessary heavy breathing, and forked over the gold. Job well done, I suppose.
Maurissa lowered her head and retrieved me from inside the rim of her hat. Compared to her scruffy face, my wiggling nose and whiskers had twice the sense of decorum.
“Whatcha think, Olly, hotel time?” Oh, I forgive this all for her reassuring smile. I got a paw, scratched my belly and then nodded my head.
“I think it best. We rest up and then journey on this evening for some nice grub. Say, carrot soup for myself and something equally delicious for yourself?” Hmm, sweet carrot soup. Truly, a feast for the Hamster Queer Herself!
“Sounds great!” Another warm smile. She put me back onto her hat with the full delight of the sun on my back then bounded along to our place of rest, till dinner at least.