Writing Day!

Yay, it's writing day! See you all tonight with Bob's critique and my submission. Is anybody writing? Nobody's blogging except me. Come on, people, communicate! It's lonely out here.

September 17--Write about a purchase--Robin's foot slipped and she tried to tighten her grip on the rope but her hands were cramping and felt like they were bleeding in her gloves. How long had she been climbing? It felt like days instead of hours. Maybe a century ago she and Will had driven the few miles outside of town to where the Niagara Escarpment thrust out of the ground and reared up over fifty feet above the rocky shore. She had nearly lost her nerve when she peered over the edge past the gnarled and ancient hemlocks to the tumbled rocks at the base of the bluff. Will was already tying one of the lines around a sturdy tree trunk when she turned back to him. She saw that even his weight swayed the tree and her mind started racing. "Will?" she said. "Hmm?" He looked up at her with such excitement and love sparkling in his eyes that she couldn't back out. That's how she ended up tiptoe on a ledge no wider than her thumb unable to get enough purchase to push herself an inch higher, wondering how much it would hurt to just let go and slide all the way down. She knew the cool water of the lake would feel good on her sore muscles and blistered hands.

Okay, youse guys, see you later!
--Barbara