Elements of the Writing Craft. Part One: Storytelling, Lesson Nineteen: Intention

Ref: Pages 25 and 26 of the text by Robert Olmstead

1. Imagine the intent to mail a letter, to stop for milk or gas or to see someone. List five things you intended to do in just the last few days.

Read for fun
Brush the dogs
Sweep the floor
Wash the car
Say goodbye to a friend before leaving on a trip

2. Imagine a dialogue where a question goes unanswered. Try writing one.

Cyrdwynn stood on the porch to Mayor Hugh’s house. She should at least say goodbye before leaving town, right? She lifted her hand and paused just before knocking. Maybe not. He’d try to talk her out of it, tell her she was being rash. He always said that, she wasn’t a rash and didn’t behave like one. She dropped her hand to her side and bit her lip. She didn’t owe him an explanation. All he ever did was assign chores and leer at her. No, he’d find out soon enough.

3. What about the opposite, an intention realized? Write a passage in which a character does precisely what she intends to do. 

Cyrdwynn lifted her bundle onto her shoulder and tested its weight. Inside her winter cloak, she wrapped an extra pair of boots, a wooden bowl, and a long-handled spoon. She patted the knife on her belt and looked over her shoulder at the giant fern where Stymie slept. She would miss the old grumpy cat, but she couldn’t be left behind while Erin marched off to find her destiny. She took a deep breath to steady herself and skipped a step down the road before settling into her stride. Once she passed the bend, through the tunnel of Elms, she couldn’t look back, and there was no reason to.

Cyrdwynn stood on the porch of Mayor Hugh’s house. She should at least say goodbye before leaving town, right? She lifted her hand and paused just before knocking. Maybe not. He’d try to talk her out of it, tell her she was being rash. He always said that, she wasn’t a rash and didn’t behave like one. She dropped her hand to her side and bit her lip. She didn’t owe him an explanation. All he ever did was assign chores and leer at her. No, he’d find out soon enough.
Cyrdwynn lifted her bundle onto her shoulder and tested its weight. Inside her winter cloak, she wrapped an extra pair of boots, a wooden bowl, and a long-handled spoon. She patted the knife on her belt and looked over her shoulder at the giant fern where Stymie slept. She would miss the old grumpy cat, but she couldn’t be left behind while Erin marched off to find her destiny. She took a deep breath to steady herself and skipped a step down the road before settling into her stride. Once she passed the bend, through the fragrant rows of cedars, she couldn’t look back, and there was no reason to.

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