- Accident Exercise: Write the accounts of an accident from the perspectives of 5 people who are witness to it, all 1st POV. Use as many varied characters as possible. OR 1 Event 5 Ways Exercise: Take a simple event and describe it using the same characters and elements of setting in 5 radically different ways (change style, tone, sentence structure, voice, psychic distance, POV, form, etc.)
- Dialogue Exercise: Write a dialogue in which each of the two characters has a secret. Do not reveal the secret but make the reader intuit it.
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Accident Exercise:
Mary couldn’t believe it. They had only paid $40 for these seats and were sitting right by the rink. The vibes were immaculate. The game was tight. They were in the third period and the teams were tied in a deadlock. Her friends and her were engrossed in the game when they suddenly heard the crash. They got up to look around and turned their heads to see what had happened, but the player who got hurt was right in front of them on the ice, clutching his arm and groaning in pain.
Coach John was the epitome of calm. His team was playing the perfect brand of hockey; aggressive but not overtly so. The opposing team was starting to crack. He could start that the faults in their defense were starting to appear. In a matter of no time, his boys would score to break the deadlock. As he went to change the line, he heard the captain’s groan after he had been boarded. “Oh no, I’m going to have to change the line now”, thought the Coach.
Anton was stressed. Under his helmet, he had beads of sweat dripping down his face. They had to win this game. However, with the way the defense was operating, they weren’t going to. He was fighting for the puck with the captain of the opposing team. In the scuffle for the puck, Anton boarded him. As Malarkey fell to the ice clutching his arm in pain, Anton knew he was going to spend the next five minutes in the sin bin.
Emma hated coming to hockey games. She loved Cole Malarkey with all of her heart but seeing the love of her life get hurt regularly was not something she liked. However, she hated Anton Boskovic with a burning passion. After all, her best friend’s ex would be her enemy. So, there she was, in the stands, yelling her heart out, supporting her amazing boyfriend. He had already scored a goal in this game and was about to score another when Boskovic boarded him. She stood up, her heart in her mouth. As Cole’s groans reverberated through the stadium, Emma turned towards the locker room and ran.
Cole Malarkey had just been made captain of the team. The pressure had been immense on him this season. In particular, the pressure on him to perform in this game was intense. Boskovic and he were rivals from back in the day playing NCAA hockey, and the present was no different. For Cole, however, this game was even more important. It was Emma’s first live game of the season as well. He was determined to get through this game without an injury. After all, when he proposed to his girlfriend of eight years at their home after the game tonight, with the ring that had been in his equipment bag for the last three weeks, he wanted her to not worry about any injury he might have had. Yet, when he noticed Boskovic’s presence near him and felt the slam into the boards, he knew tonight was not going to end well.
Secret Conversation:
“Wait, Joey, can you repeat that again?”
Max was utterly confused by what Joey was saying.
“I’m going to take Calc2. It’s a good idea, right?”
“No, it isn’t a good idea”, Max replied.
“Well, I have always loved doing math and I do have the pre-requisite, and I can spend more time with you by taking it, so I think it’s a great idea”.
“No, Joey, focus on football. The overall 4th NFL Draft pick is not going to take a class just for his girlfriend. The girlfriend forbids it. Focus on your game. My workload isn’t that heavy, so I’ll be in the bleachers cheering for you more often now.”
“Well, the boyfriend just wants to take a class with you, Max. There’s not much you can say that can stop me.”
1)Accident Exercise:
He sat in his rocking chair on the front porch sipping his morning coffee. The sky was blue and the sun shown bright across the fields of crop. There was a buzz in the air, but he couldn’t pinpoint it. He dropped his newspaper and looked up at the sky. “Well I’ll be darned”, he mumbled. Like a bird shot in flight, he watched as the commercial plane plummeted toward the ground.
The panel of controls beeped in alarm. He scrambled across the controls trying to make it stop. The wheel had jammed and the tip of the plane now pointed toward the ground. He could hear the emergency systems ding in the cabin and the stir of panicking passengers just beyond the cockpit doors. He could hear the children crying to their mothers. How did this happen. He continued to jerk the wheel hoping for a miracle release. Lord save us all he thought.
The young child sat strapped in her seat. She wanted nothing more but to crawl into her mothers lap but she feared her mothers sternness so she obeyed. She watched her mother snore away with her headphones in her ears, bobbing her head up and down. Suddenly the plane jerked and the child’s ipad fell to the floor. Within moments the alarms of the plane began to ring and oxygen masks fell from the ceiling. “Mom, Mom, Mom”, she pleaded. When her mother awoke they clutched each other tightly she watched as tears rolled down her mothers face and they watched from the window as the clouds flew by, the ground below appearing closer and closer.
The lady shuffled into the tight restroom at the back of the plane. She looked at her tired face in the small mirror. She quickly took care of her business and went to the sink to watch her hands. The floor of the plane tilted abruptly and the water began to spill from the sink. She lunged for the bathroom lock and jumped into the aisle. All around she saw panicking faces, oxygen masks, and emergency lights. This was the end.
Steve sat next to the pilot. This was his apprentice and it was his job to share the joy of the sky with this man. His student had taken off with ease, after all most of flying these days was done by the machinery, there was little controls the pilots really had to maintain. They sat eating their snacks adn watching the clouds float by as the plane cruised on autopilot. The student sneezed with such force his head smacked the steering bar. The nose of the plane pointed to the ground. When he reached to pull it up, he couldn’t. Steve gripped the bar adn the two struggled to pull it upward, it was jammed. SHIT < SHIT SHIT the alarms had gone off and the cabin began to stir. Steve looked out the front and watched as the town down below grew closer and closer .
A car plowed through the window of the restaurant as I sat and drank my coffee. It stopped just short of me, my little table by the window, and for a moment, I wondered what would happen if it hadn’t stopped. Would I have stained my shirt, dropped my latte onto my nice dress pants. There’s glass in my shoe. Maybe in both. God, I’m really gonna be late to this interview, huh?
I watched in horror as broken glass rained down on the poor woman at the window table. The window table that is prized by customers every morning, our beloved breakfast spot. I watch the woman sit totally still, frozen, eerily calm, before she disappears behind the bar as I duck in horror and self preservation before I know it. I don’t know her, which is odd– I usually know the morning crowd. She is dressed nicely, but I don’t remember serving her coffee. Unremarkable as she stared down a moving car, almost daring it to hit her. I stumble to my phone, which is on the counter behind me, and wrestle my shaking hands into dialling 911. The coffee I’m making gets cold before I get back to it. A caramel macchiato, I think.
I make eye contact with a set of headlights, and, like I’ve been posessed by the spirit of a deer in the middle of the street, for a moment I lose the ability to think. Then, when I can think, I think I’ve had another stroke. Or possibly some wire has gotten so crossed that I am experiencing incredibly coordinated auditory and visual hallucinations. A loud horn announces the presence of the car, the car that is driving directly at me, driver slumped over the wheel, and as I stumble backwards, I hear glass crash. My eyes are closed, arms around my head. I think I’m on the floor. The crash is so loud, so close, aching and sharp.
I rush towards her as soon as the car stops, as soon as the raining glass has settled. She doesn’t look hurt, but when she looks over, her eyes are empty. Her pupils are wide, black. She’s wholly checked out. Adrenaline will do that to you. I grab her closer hand and pull her arm over my shoulder, expecting some resistance even in her state of what I can only assume to be acute shock, but find none. Probably dissociated, then. Someone in the back is calling an ambulance. Good. I think Eva’s on duty today, Eva and maybe Riley? They’ll make sure she’s okay on her way to the hospital. I set her down by the doorway, taking her pulse with my fingers and asking meaningless questions she doesn’t answer so that she doesn’t sink too far into shock.
“Mom, I just don’t know how I’m gonna get to the airport in half an hour if you want to have it on Tuesday–” I am cut off by a car horn across the street, and before I can make an exasperated comment about city driving to my mother, who is graciously planning my baby shower (which is inconveniently close to my honeymoon, but I can’t have it after, because in the spirit of shit planning, I’m incredibly pregnant for my honeymoon which we already postponed because of the first child) (and don’t get me wrong, I really love my kids, but it’s just really fucking annoying to be pregnant on your honeymoon) (which is, again, why I postponed it the first time), a piercing crash interrupts. The window of the cute little brunch spot (I’ve always wanted to try it, but God is it expensive, and Nick is busy on the weekends for brunch anyways) is decimated entirely as a brown truck slams through the beautiful window. I cover my stomach without thinking, twisting so that instead I’m facing into the entryway of an apartment building. The doorbell says “the Smiths,” like the band (Nick’s favorite! It’s briefly (almost) funny). Someone screams, and I realize I have dropped my phone.
His hand wraps around mine, shaking slightly, as I put on my coat. We haven’t even left the hotel yet– our adventure to brave the cold has so far been the AC that is turned to a balmy seventy degrees.
“Are you cold, sweetheart?” I ask, and remembering the sheer amount of our shared suitcase he took up. “Didn’t you bring gloves?”
Really, this man brought potentially every layer he owns, and I’m being polite in insinuating that he may not have packed something. I would actually bet money that there’s probably no less than three pairs in there. So much for women overpacking, or men being chivalrous: I sacrificed bringing a second pair of shoes for his extra scarves. Plural. He’s not even usually an overpacker, but this time he packed enough to practically hide a body. At least I love him. He laughs.
“Yeah, but I don’t want to go find them right now. It’s really fine.”
“Of course you don’t want to go find them! You know, if you packed a normal amount, you would be able to find them much quicker.” I quirk my eyebrow at him, as though I have unveiled the most intelligent suggestion ever known to mankind.
“The only thing I can say about your overpacking,” I start, before it occurs to me to perhaps not be quite so forward, “is that you’re going to be the most prepared father there ever was.” I watch his eyes.
He laughs again. Easy, casual, a laugh that says “Yeah, right.” So much for this conversation right now.
I try again, aiming to distract him. “I can look for your stupid gloves if you want.”
“Nah, it’s fine! I’ll be okay without them. Really.” His eyes dart to the suitcase and back. “It’s really okay. Don’t worry about it.”
The ring box lies in the bottom left corner, carefully concealed under a pair of pants, a jacket, and two scarves.
The radio warbles faintly in the background, broadcasting the typical 5 o’clock news that no one ever bothers to listen to. There I am, absentmindedly ringing up the order for a scruffy beanpole of a guy pushing up wire-framed glasses far too big for his face, when I look up and see it. Phil’s Used Books stands on the corner of 9th and 9th, stuck near a busy intersection that marks the crossing between the freeway and a local university. It happens in slow motion. One moment I’m losing braincells making small talk about the lovely weather we happened to have today, and the next I’m shouting “look out, behind you” before the world becomes a ringing explosion of burning books and flying glass.
We’re stopped on the intersection between 9th and 9th, and I can’t help but take my clammy hands off the wheel and wipe them on my jeans. Nolan, sitting shotgun, is giving me my fourth ever driving lesson. He can tell I’m nervous, but tells me to shrug it off, saying “come on, you’ve seen me do this a million times before.” I am not reassured. The light turns green so I slam my foot on the gas, scared that the driver behind me will honk if I take too long. It’s certainly happened before, so I book it. We’re halfway across the intersection when I see something barreling towards us in my peripheral vision, but it’s too late, and suddenly our limbs are flailing and the world is spinning and all I can think about is how loud the metal sounded as it crunched during the moment of impact.
It’s the end of my latest long-haul drive, but it’s passing at an impossibly slow pace. I turn up the stereo to distract myself and drown out the low rumble of the engine. Welcome to the Jungle by Guns N’ Roses blares through the truck’s tinny speakers as I cruise along 9th avenue, grateful to be driving on a straight road for once. On the dash, my phone lights up, Joan’s caller ID flashing across the screen. It’s 5 o’clock, she must be calling to ask what I want for dinner, so I reach forward and fumble with the plugs, not noticing when the light at the intersection turns yellow, then red. By the time I look up, it’s too late and I can’t slam on the brakes hard enough to stop before pummeling into the small SUV that drove out in front of me. Time moves in slow motion as we careen towards Phil’s Used Books. I’ve always wanted to take Joan on a date there.
Bright lights blind me as I make the latest report about the DOW Jones Industrial Average. I’m in the middle of repeating the same spiel as yesterday when my teleprompter flashes URGENT, so I quickly announce “breaking news, five found dead at the scene of a fatal car accident on the corner of 9th and 9th, semi driver held responsible for running red light, more to come at 7 o’clock.” The teleprompter drops the message, so I flash a quick smile before returning to report about the DOW Jones Industrial Average.
The clock keeps ticking as I pace around the living room. It feels like I can’t breathe, so I plop down on our couch and turn on the TV. Channel 5 news is broadcasting and I sit there, unable to move, as the reporter runs through the breaking news. Oh no, Ted hasn’t come home yet. My phone rings and I answer. “Ma’am, this is incident management calling about your husband,” I don’t process the words, I can’t. My phone clatters to the hardwood floor and I stand there, shellshocked.
Accident Exercise:
I’ve been snowboarding my whole life. All 12 years of it. I’ve been in classes and on teams for so many years. My favorite thing is diving and weaving through the trees. Every tree creates a little hill to jump off and it’s my favorite thing to do. I take a turn seeing the biggest tree so ready for this soon-to-be awesome jump. I head straight for it gaining speed. Right as I hit the bump I’m ready to jump until all of a sudden I’m no longer on my feet. I don’t know where I am. It’s dark and cold, but I can’t move. I’m trying with all my might, but I can’t get my snowboard out. Now I just wait, cold and alone.
We’ve had so many calls today about the trees eating people. I’ve been up and down the mountain all day. Finally, the head ski patrol decided we were going to go around roping off the scary trees. I’m headed down to the worst one, following a young snowboarder. I realize he’s headed straight for it and he doesn’t realize I’m behind him. I can’t do anything, he won’t hear me. I see him hit the bump until the bump disintegrates collapsing with him becoming one with the tree. I see him trying to wiggle but this tree doesn’t let anyone go. I get to him and grab him pulling and shoveling him out. I just know he won’t hit those trees anymore.
This is my least favorite part of skiing. I just sit here. So high up I get scared when the people next to me start moving the chair lift seat. Like hello, we’re going over rocks please don’t rock us off. My gaze is then distracted by ski patrol following this kid snowboarder. I can’t tell what’s happening, maybe this kid got in trouble and they’re chasing him. I keep following them with my eyes until the kid disappears into a tree. I gasped I had no idea trees could eat people. Well guess I’m not doing any tree jumps anymore.
It’s so nice out today, the snow is a little rough, sometimes groomed but the weather feels crisp up here. I’m going one of my many standard routes down the mountain. I come here every weekend as a little break from reality. As I ski I see this kid I rode up the chair lift tearing down towards a tree. I mean it’s a big tree, but maybe he’s just not in control. Then I see him aim for a bump. Just then a puff of snow explodes into the air at the base of the tree. I blinked and now this kid in deep in the tree. I have no idea what to do now, should I go help?
I see a teammate head for the trees and I plan on following since we both love jumping trees. I make sure I won’t cut anyone off before heading over there. I slow down a bit just to watch how he hits it. Then he disappears and I start freaking out. I luckily see ski patrol behind him. I rush over to the tree to see him wedged unable to get out. I help the ski patrol get him out, but I’m taking a break from jumping trees…
Dialogue Exercise:
“Spill the tea, I’m bored, please tell me you have something interesting to detail,” Caroline speaks as she walks into the kitchen.
“Well I overheard something that no one should ever know…” says Elle while making a cup of coffee. Elle begins giving the layout of where everyone is. There’s a group at the next table. A young girl maybe 16, and two boys around 18 discussing their lives. Specifically their love lives. You may ask what is wrong with this group and their ages, Caroline did too.
“I knew them when I was younger,” Elle said. “They were neighbors and the boys are old for their grade while the girl is young for hers. So they’re only a school year apart, it feels like a lot less to them.” Caroline nods and asks “What did they say, were they gossiping about love?”
“God no, they were talking about hookups and what they’ve done,” Elle said.
“How immature,” Caroline responded.
“The girl started crying when they asked about hers. She began mumbling to the point that no one could understand a word she was trying to make out.” Elle’s eyes lost focus for a second remembering. “The boys looked at each other and then stared at her, well a specific part of her…”
For the first time in two weeks, I clock in on time, but I am still put on dish duty. So I pout and stomp while I put on my apron and gloves, and the chefs behind the stove are making jokes and laughing at me. I turn on the industrial dishwasher and plug in my headphones, hoping time will go by fast. I am on the fourth pot, scrubbing chicken carcasses and grease all the way up to my shoulder. Once I am done with it, I place it on the tray to push it into the dishwasher. However, my long sleeve shirt gets caught and the machine keeps pulling my arm. I am grunting and screaming as I try to pull it out, but instead it dislocates. So then I lost my grip and then everything went black.
I am preparing for the inauguration of Smith’s new president by cutting all the vegetables ahead of time. I have to cut 3 pounds worth of carrots, onions, peppers, and garlic. I got so bored that I started to compete with myself to see how fast I could cut the carrots. It took me 3 minutes to cut all 3 pounds of carrots. I take my dirty cutting board and knife to the student worker who is on dishwash duty, and as I walk over, I see her grunting and struggling, not understanding what is happening. Then all of a sudden, I see a gush of blood spit all over the walls and floor, and in a second, she is on the ground with only one arm. But I can’t move, I am paralyzed with fear.
I am making an iced chai latte for order #268. I am pouring oat milk in the cup when all of a sudden, I hear a commotion in the back kitchen, it sounds like pots and pans falling. Then I hear grunting and screaming, from my co-worker who is on dish duty. Not knowing what to do, I called our manager for help.
I am so dirty. Every single crevice in me is filled with grease and scrapes of food. I am waiting in the sink to be scrubbed and polished to the t. The student worker on duty picks me up and drowns me in soap and water, using all her weight to clean me. Then she places me on the tray to push me though the industrial dishwasher and as she does her arm gets caught. It is ripped in an instant and blood is splashed all over me. Oh no, I am dirty again.
I get a frantic call from one of the student workers, saying that a horrible accident has just occurred. I ran out of my office, towards the cafe to investigate, and when I arrived they yelled at me to go to the kitchen. I enter and I see a student worker out cold on the ground, with one less arm. I quickly take out my phone and call 911, while I tell one of the chefs to cover her armless arm with a towel.
Accident exercise in 5 POVs in 1st person
A loud scream was heard from the corner of the room and then a boom.
I walked to the back of the classroom holding an art experiment that my partner was working on. I set it down on the table and began washing my hands but the circular art experiment rolled from its original position. I watched it roll down, eyes widening as it landed in the sink with a loud thunk. Why was it so heavy? As I was about to pick it up, the circular object slipped out of my hands and landed again in the sink, this time exploding all over the place. I screamed and attempted to cover my face, but it was too late.
I was napping in the back of the classroom near the window. I was dreaming about sailing in the ocean and catching a large fish. The fish had flown out of my reach, wriggling out and into the ocean. Before the fish could land in the water, a loud boom shook me up in my sleep. I woke up, scared and looking in all directions to see Miranda standing by the sink, covered in all blue and crying.
I was minding my own business, drawing something unrelated to the assignment when I heard a scream. Miranda was covered in blue paint and was crying hysterically. She got paint all over her face when she tried to wipe her tears away. I started laughing at what was in front of me especially because she kept making it worse. She cried more.
I had turned around to write on the blackboard. I needed to put the next few instructions so that the students could work on the following project. The chalk squeaked with every letter and left a white cast on my hands. I heard a sound from the door and saw Matt walk through the door, 15 minutes late to class. As I was about to scold him, he ran screaming “No!” towards Miranda in the back. She screamed.
I had missed the bus this morning, of course, today of all days. I ran all the way to school. I was thinking about how funny it would be if the teacher accidentally dropped the sphere I was working on this week. I had to be there to not miss it. I walked into the classroom sheepishly, trying to not make a sound and get caught. When I walked in, I saw Miranda standing by the sink, and next to her, my sphere rolling down to her. Oh no. I yelled her name but it was too late.
Dialogue Exercise
A daughter went to visit her mother. She had not gone in a while due to her busy schedule, but she had to go as soon as possible. She picked up her phone and dialed her mother’s number.
“Hey, I’m on my way,” she said to her mother.
“Now? I didn’t think you would come today,” the mother responded with a giggle.
There was a pause on the daughter’s end. There was something she was holding back for a week, she wanted to tell her mother since she was the closest person to her, but she did not have the courage.
“Well, I hope you’re here for today. It’s a special day after all.” The mother, on the other hand, was cooking in the kitchen, preparing a glamorous meal for today’s special day. It has been 24 years, the mother thought.
“Oh, how long ago it was…” the mother mumbles on the line and holds herself back from finishing that sentence.
She knew her daughter was coming today and had to surprise her. Her daughter, on the other hand, had forgotten what today was. She had so much on her mind that she did not even know what day of the week it was.
“I will just go really quick. I got to do something,” the daughter said.
The mother though, had to keep quiet. She couldn’t keep her longer than what she could stay for. If she told her daughter what she had planned, it would no longer be a surprise.
“Can you stay for a little longer?” The mother said as she ran around the house, fixing a bouquet of flowers to gift her and inflated balloons.
“Only for a little bit” The daughter pulled up the driveway and took a big sigh. She hung up the phone.
She looked down to her lower body in her car seat and caressed her stomach. Maybe it is time to tell her mother, she thought. The daughter wanted to wait three months before telling her mother but it was better the sooner she did it.
The mother walked out of the house holding the flowers behind her sheepishly and trying to hide her smile as she went to greet her daughter who was coming out of the car. The daughter took a deep breath and slowly walked towards her, both ready to tell and show each other their secret.