Date:         Mon, 4 Jan 1999 08:39:00 -0500
From: "a bibliobibuli! beware, beware!" <mbarker@MIT.EDU>
Subject:      [WRITERS] EXERCISE: Pilgrimage (Jordan - 7)

Jordan

I guess I was the first to see it -- the bright form among the clouds above
Baldy.  There seemed to be no interval of wondering or questioning in my
mind.  I knew the minute I caught the metallic gleam -- the instant the
curl-back of the clouds give a brief glimpse of a long sleek curve.  I knew
and I gave a shout of delight.  Here it was!  What more direct answer to a
prayer could any fellow want?  Just like that!  My release from rebellion,
the long-awaited answer to my protests against restrictions!  There above me
was release!  I emptied my two hands of the gravel I had made of two small
rocks during the time I had brooded on my boulder, dusted my palms against
my Levi's and lifted myself above the brush.  I turned toward home, the tops
of the underbrush ticking off the distance against my trailing toes.  But
oddly I felt a brief remote pang -- almost of -- regret?

That's the seventh paragraph from Pilgrimage by Zenna Henderson. Copyright
1961, printed by Avon books, New York NY.

Here's my challenge.

I am posting six other opening paragraphs from the book so there will be
seven opening paragraphs that you can use.  (Why does this book have seven
starting paragraphs? One is from the framing story, the other six are
basically stand-alone short stories.)

Your job is to write stories starting from Zenna Henderson's paragraphs.

Write them, polish them, and send me your best. No more than two stories
per author per paragraph (14 stories per author? That's not a limitation,
that's an invitation to over extend yourself).

Length? Short stories, remember? So, how about 3,000 words max.

Remember, send your stories to mbarker@mit.edu so that I can repost them
anonymously. I will also put copies on a Web page.

Closing date for the last submissions: January 20, 1999
Reading and Voting: January 21 to January 27

Two winners, each to receive a copy of Pilgrimage by Zenna Henderson.

and they're sharpening their pencils, flattening out the curled sheets,
almost ready to...
WRITE!

"Take me up into your mind once or twice before I die (you know why: just
because the eyes of you and me will be full of dirt some day).  Quickly take
me up into the bright child of your mind."  Edward Estlin Cummings

tink