Editor’s Note: This post has been written by Linda K. Strahl, an editor at the Jet Fuel Review. Her full bio can be found at the end of this post.
I have a feeling that, as I was very confused with the first post of this week, my audience will be as well. On Prompt # 33 there are three types, or forms, of writing. There are three distinct and very different kinds of voices with which the challenge wants us to imitate. As I know from previous classes there is difficulty in imitating someone else’s work, because it distorts your own voice. The task calls for the challenged to choose one of your previous free-writes and rewrite it with one style in mind. I first tried to imitate choice number 3, but as I looked through the newest version I found out that my imitation is far more similar with choice number 1.
The reason I chose prompt # 23 to re-write is the theme. As the second prompt this week tells us to write about kissing, I thought I would use a prompt that had that theme already written in. Look at original prompt # 23.
As for the theme of prompt # 34, the task to describe a kiss, I chose a personal experience I had on Wednesday afternoon. Being stung by a bee is no picnic, being stung on the lip by a bee is agony, unless of course, you are allergic to bees, then you have me trumped. I would have had this post up on Thursday if I did not have to go to the doctor Thursday night to get treatment, so I apologize. With that said, I give you the tasks of the week:
Prompt # 33
Task: Take one of the passages from Ecclesiastes, George Orwell’s “modern English” translation. Rewrite a previous prompt focusing on either rhythm, meaning or imagery.
Duration: 15 min.
- I returned and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, not the battle of the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favor to men of skill…
- Objective consideration of contemporary phenomena compels the conclusion that success or failure in competitive activities exhibits no tendency to be commensurate with innate capacity…
- A truth strikes me and drives me to the place whence none of us escape: for we who, together, seek to ascend whether we rise to the heights or slip, to fall from the lying rock, our paths are not measured to the size of what, from birth, our seeking hands could grasp and hold.
Prompt 23 (rewrite)
Task: Saying the Unsayable
Duration: 15 min.
The urge, so pressing, as her fingers itched like a thousand bug bites on the tips of her finger. The pit of her stomach, simmered with the side-effects of the kiss. She leaned away, covering her mouth with her hand. Lips tingling result of that stolen kiss. It had singed her nerve endings. Lightning, ricochet down her spine: It had thrilled her, wounded her, tears twinge at the corner of her eyes, as air catches in her throat. Wanting
to understand the why, behind the need; to pull his face closer to her with the navy blue tie that hung around his neck, touch his jaw with her hand. She wanted to give in, but the betrayal of that kiss he didn’t let her give him, quelled need to fulfill them. She felt the passion within her dissipate, into dust, her heart freezes in fractures of pieces, she steps back and walks away.
Prompt # 34
Task: Describe a kiss.
Duration: 15 min.
The sting of it, hits her like your first stolen kiss. The searing pain, a prickly tingle that makes her curse like a pirate in a bad mood making her yell, for a split second. Lips swell in like too much collagen was in one shot. Face turning lopsided and out of sync with the rest of her face, while in the pain becomes a nagging pinch. As her face looks like a grotesque melding of a smile and a wince. And her face begins to resemble the distorted thing you find in a funhouse mirror. Lips split oozing clear venom from her loves last kiss. The pain is never really remembered until the day he dies for a kiss. As the kiss of the bee is his last.
Editor’s Note: Linda K Strahl is a transfer student from University of Wisconsin- La Crosse, where she was studying Archaeology and minoring in Creative Writing. She came to Lewis University in Fall of 2010 to major in Creative Writing. After participating in the production of two plays at Phillip Lynch Theater she has become an enthusiastic dramaturg, and is contemplating a career as a researcher and playwriter.