not named, yet.

[bapiau]

I hate writers block so much. Where can I go from here?


“I’m so sorry Miss. Come on sweetie lets get you cleaned up. Maybe you shouldn’t have had that hotdog.”
No kidding. “That’s quite alright. No problem.” She said through a false smile and gritted teeth. The young girl and her mother walked away and left her there with not so much as a bye or leave. She looked down at her cream coloured skirt which was now a fetching shade of brownish-yellow with chunks, presumably to add texture. She already had a thumping headache and the smell of that brat’s vomit was not helping matters.
As a rule she didn’t tend to hang around near the exit of the bigger fair rides, but she’d been on her way out of the ladies when the little girl had cornered her; begging for a photograph, shortly after which the girl proceeded to empty the contents of her stomach over her skirt. That would make it three times in one afternoon - a new record perhaps.

“God, you smell like crap.”
“Puke to be precise but close enough.”


so yes, haven't even named her yet. though I do know she is dressed up as disney's snow white.

[Laura]

At first I was confused ... is it a little girl who threw up on her? This part:

"much as a bye or leave"

--maybe just make it say "much as a goodbye" ... I don't like the plain "bye"

This might be interesting, it's really hard to tell where it's going ... it could really go into anything from what you have right now.

[bapiau]

well I have ideas- which I realise aren't apparent as of yet as it's only a few paragraphs in, but I'm going to do a complete overhaul on it, not enough description etc. So this is definately the pre-write as my lecturer would say.

btw "bye or leave" was used because it's a phrase and I don't think you'd get a goodbye from someone you have barely met. It kind of references the fact they hardly acknowledged that they were leaving her there or that they'd even met her in the first place kind of thing - she's just "the staff" in otherwords. Thankless job etc.

But as I say, I've added more since I've posted this to get the gist of where I'm going, but I haven't given it the re-working it needs. Thanks for the input btw, much needed.

[Laura]

Well that's just my opinion ... I've never heard the phrase "bye or leave"

[bapiau]

perhaps it's a British thing. We are a weird people...

[bapiau]

yay for inspiration. And I now have a vague idea with where it's going. It involves the machine that won't open.



When Debbie Lloyd had told her mother that she wanted to work with children, she had been less than encouraging. She believed that Debbie had no patience with children and didn’t have the drive to teach, which would lead her, inevitably, to a thankless job which would, in turn, create a tremendous resentment for all things under the age of eighteen. How her mother could have known this when Debbie was the tender age of five, well, goodness knows. Had Debbie heeded her mother’s sceptical advice, she probably wouldn’t have found herself dressed as a cartoon character and covered in vomit twenty years later. But that was how it was.
“I’m so sorry Miss.” The woman addressing her couldn’t look less concerned. “Come on sweetie lets get you cleaned up. Maybe you shouldn’t have had that hotdog.” She said, turning to her daughter.
No kidding. “That’s quite alright. No problem.” Debbie gritted her teeth and tried to smile as best as she could under the circumstances. The woman led her daughter to the toilets with not so much as a bye or leave. Some people are so self-centred, “Hey! Watch where you’re going!” Debbie yelled at an unsuspecting boy with an ice cream who promptly ran away crying, throwing his cone at her in the process. It landed on her top. “Just great.”
Debbie looked down at herself; her blue top was covered in mint choc-chip ice cream, while her cream coloured skirt was now a fetching shade of brownish-yellow with chunks. It wasn’t quite lunchtime yet and already she had a terrible headache. The smell of the little girls vomit mixed with the vague minty smell of the ice cream was not helping matters.
As a rule she didn’t tend to hang around near the exit of the bigger fair rides; that was just asking for trouble in her opinion, but she’d been on her way out of the ladies when the little girl had cornered her; begging for a photograph. Shortly after the girl proceeded to empty the contents of her stomach over her skirt. That would make it three times in one morning - a new record perhaps.

Debbie spent the whole of her lunch break in the staff changing room, watching her costume being washed and dried in the only working washing machine. When she had first come to work there and realised the magnitude of the company’s success she had a sneaking suspicion that corners were being cut where no one could see them. It was a good system, to be fair, she herself cut corners when necessary - she never vacuumed under the furniture when her mother came to visit, always around, never under. Not that it mattered; no one could see it. But here, well, Debbie could see it and it was driving her mad.
They had provided the one changing room with three washer-dryers, only one of which was working. Actually two were, but one of them had managed to become home to a family of large rats which no one really wanted to disturb, so it didn’t count. The other, well, no one knew if it was working - the door refused to open. Doors were hanging off lockers; the radiators were off in the winter but on during the summer; there was only one toilet cubicle with no sink; the loose tiles on the floor were an accident waiting to happen; there was a high-pitched whine but no one could figure out where it was coming from and to top it of was a lingering smell of cabbage. The staff that had to change in this particular changing room had developed a motto: “Get in, get changed, get out.”




and that is all I have so far, I really want to write more but I find that the inspiration has almost completely ebbed away for the time being. Oddly enough I now feel inspired to draw, so I may do that instead... Comments please?

[Sharon]

I have heard of the term "leave" though it's mostly in stories not in every day conversations I think. I can't really point out a particular story that used the term from the top of my head. This is interesting... but I'm not really sure where you're aiming to take this story. I've read somewhere that I great place to start when writing a story is at the end. I think it was Joyce Carol Oates that said that she doesn't write anything else until she has a perfect ending or something like that. (Then again, I could be wrong and might be another person) but anyway, yeah, if you're stuck and don't really know what to write from here, perhaps starting at the end and write what happens to Debbie at the end of the story. Like... does she change as a person, does she realize something, does she die? (that's a bit tragic way of looking at it) but yeah, what happens? Oh, but don't tell us, write it and let us find out

[bapiau]

I have finished the opening, it's too late to post and I think I may be a little too drunk to find the folder. Will post it tomorrow...later... banana, if I have time or can even remember. Coffee?

[Sharon]

coffee may help, hm... i could use a cup right now. well, post when you get a chance and can remember and are sober

[bapiau]

will do boss lady. I like being drunk I can go and talk to random guys and if I act stupid I can always say that I'm drunk and whoopsie. Though I act stupid when I'm sober too it's just when I'm drunk I have an excuse you know? the Cider made me do it! THE CIDER I TELLS YA!

I'll stop spamming now boss lady. 0:)