June 26, 2024 10:47
When I have a moment of writer’s block, I like to use a jump-off line to get the words flowing…
The line I used today is one I grabbed from The Amulet of Samarkand by Johnathan Stroud. I randomly opened the novel and chose a number between 1 and 33. The 13th line on the right hand page was just the kick I needed to get started.
I was thinking of the helpless djinn trapped inside the ruined mannequins as I serpentined my way past far-flung bits of flaming fabric, fiberglass body part fragments, splintered display cases, and shattered glass to the winding mahogany staircase. Smoldering debris mixed with Mojave Ghost Eau de Parfum fumes stung my eyes, nearly choking me to death. In my defense, I didn’t see the Do Not Touch signs pinned to the hems of every dummy’s evening gown until I flopped onto the floor to avoid being struck by the storm of arms, heads, torsos, and legs raining upon Foremost Fashion’s Formal Wear department.
In hindsight, I should have backed off the moment I’d slid my hand along one model’s velvety sleeve and a wave of stinging sparks pricked my fingertips. But that’s normal. Right? Static electricity. It happens. What was unusual this time though was how the lights flickered, and the air continued to crack and sizzle as if I’d lit the fuse on a bottle rocket.
But the fabric was absolutely luxurious. I couldn’t stop rolling the satin trim edge between my fingers. Not until it called to me…literally. “A wicked window dresser has exiled bits of me to these…these…ghastly vessels. Please! Release me from this prison and I shall reward you with a gift, one beyond your wildest dreams.”
It had to be a prank. I began poking between the folds gathered at the dresses cinched waist. In my frenzied search for the microphone, my fingertip grazed a single silk button. The gold-veined marble floor shuddered, then shook with a palpable vengeance. Chandeliers swayed; their crystal tear drops tinkled as thin funnel-clouds swirled from cracks in the mannequins’ bald heads. Like strawberry soft-serve ice cream filling waffled sugar cones, they increased in size as they rose to the ceiling. That was the moment I dropped to my knees…noticed the do not touch sign…and wished I had stayed home and sent my dragon manuscript off to my agent to submit to at least one publisher that would find it endearing enough to publish.
Now that There Are No Dragons In This Book has been released by NorthSouth Books, do you think the helpless djinn trapped inside the ruined mannequins had anything to do with it?
~ Be Well Dear Reader ~
Thank You For Stopping By Today
❤
Posted by Donna Gwinnell Lambo-Weidner
Categories: ADVENTURES, BOOK LAUNCH, Donna Lambo-Weidner Books, HUMOR, WRITING CHALLENGES, WRITING RESOURCES
Tags: adventure in writing, Carla Haslbauer, Carla Haslbauer illustrations, Copperfield's Books Napa, Donna Lambo-Weidner, Donna Lambo-Weidner Books, dragon picture books, Jump-off line, NordSüd Verlag, NorthSouth Books, The Amulet of Samarkand, The Bartimaeus Trilogy by Johnathan Stroud, There Are No Dragons In This Book, writer's block remedy, Yosemite tight-rope walker
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