I just saw a post by diannegray She is inviting people to play the game Look.
The idea of the game is to locate the word ‘look’ in whatever manuscript you have lying around, then post it with the surrounding paragraphs. Afterwards, invite other authors to do the same. These paragraphs are from my first attempt at a novel – nowhere near finished yet, but I’d love some comments to see what you think.
Ethan looked at himself in the mirror for the third time. The deep circles under his eyes and the numerous laugh lines did much to convince him that he had earned each of his 38 years. Laugh lines he thought, were the definition of irony. He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed. Hell, he couldn’t remember the last time he had smiled. Pulling his gaze from the mirror, Ethan glanced around his modest condominium. The collection of antique and clay figurines certainly looked familiar, but somehow seemed vaguely out of place. He could not put a finger on it but his trepidation increased.
Shaking off his uneasiness and the frustration of the day, he moved over to the dry sink and poured himself a glass of Robert Mondavi Cabernet Sauvignon. He padded through the plush carpet and sank into his favorite recliner. Although the condo was tastefully decorated, the recliner stuck out like a sore thumb. The remainder of the chocolate-brown corduroy on the arms hung in tatters and foam spouted from the gaping holes, but Ethan refused to part with it. The chair had become as comforting as a warm handshake from an old friend – unfortunately, a subject he could not relate to with great authority. Ethan had always been a loner. His parents had been extreme over achievers but had never pushed Ethan to open up. Before he could rub any more salt in that open wound, he changed his thought pattern to complete nothingness.
The sun gradually lowered itself and began pulling up the blanket of the horizon. As dusk inched its way to darkness, Ethan remained listless in his chair. Blackness swept through the apartment and Ethan found himself awash in a cascade of shadows and jagged streaks of moonlight. Although the solitude did have a serene quality, Ethan could not shake the sense that the darkness held some sort of malice for him. After a few more glasses of Mondavi, Ethan was feeling the effects of the wine and sleep crept methodically into the corners of his eyes and gently pulled down his eyelids. As his breathing became heavy and rhythmic, the black canvas of his dreamscape was brushed clean and anxiously awaited a new splash of color.
~ Since I’m fairly inept at figuring out how to tag – I hope you will play the game too. Maybe if I spend less time blogging and more time writing, I could actually get this book finished!!