Oh the Joy in my Heart! A SECOND stem of Thorn’s awarded in the span of week! Literati–let me explain the honor. Occasionally I receive an email with the blush of a rose in its charm and sweetness and sincerity. And I take it upon myself, without the author’s consent, to make certain that every …
Oh the Joy in my Heart! A SECOND stem of Thorn’s awarded in the span of week!
Literati–let me explain the honor.
Occasionally I receive an email with the blush of a rose in its charm and sweetness and sincerity. And I take it upon myself, without the author’s consent, to make certain that every person in the entire galaxy gets to read what was said.
It is affectionately called “Thorning” Consider it a stoning, but more fragrant!
Debi Swim, brand new to our site, has edged out so many others! Here her true nature is revealed, as she expresses how truly harsh she can be!
Congratulations on winning this most coveted award. YOU’VE BEEN THORNED!
And here is the email that edged out the competition:
“I whittled until I counted 196 words (using all my fingers and toes several times). You don’t have to post this but if you can replace the embarrassingly verbose one with this it would be nice. If you can’t at least I proved to myself that I can deal harshly with beloved phrases. Thank, Debi”
Debi entered our contest and her word count was waaaaay over. So she made amends to make it conform, and you all KNOW how I love conformity! So I am publishing her story again, now that it conforms to the word count. These writing exercises really do work to help us become better writers.
Here you go, Debi!
You Didn’t Write That
by Debi Swim
“Maynard, come here.”
“Now what?” he thought, walking to the front.
Mrs. Snavely held a folder out, “Recognize this?”
“Sure, it’s my book report,” Maynard answered.
She looked at him over the top of her glasses, “Maynard, you didn’t write that.”
His face red, nostrils flared, he retorted, “Yes, I did write that. That’s my handwriting.”
The teacher sighed, “I have no doubt it is your handwriting. I recognize the sloppy penmanship. When I say ‘you didn’t write that’ it refers to the content not the actual scribbling of letters.”
Maynard placed his hand on his heart. “Mrs. Snavely, you wound me. I read the book. I liked the book. This book spoke to me. Is the report not good enough?”
Mrs. Snavely conceded, “Yes, Maynard, an excellent report, good insights.”
Maynard asked, “What? I’m too stupid to write that?”
“No, Maynard, not stupid, you are capable of writing a paper like this.”
Maynard relaxed and smiled, “Then why do you think I didn’t?”
Turning to the last page she said, “Maynard, you are not stupid, but you are careless. I know you didn’t write that because you copied the real author’s name at the end!”