What do you see?

Take a moment and watch the above video. Then in the comments below, tell us what you see and if possible, the story behind it. This exercise works great both for freelance writers in the non fiction industry and fiction authors. Note anything in the video that would tell you about the action, setting, maybe give them a reason for the fight if you’re so inclined.

Whether you’re taking the ‘reporter on the scene’ approach or writing the story behind the video and giving the birds voices, make it easy to read and clear enough to get the reader to follow it through.

Try to keep the report or story below 500 words and take a moment to review what others are saying, and writing. Offer honest suggestions and reflection. That’s how we continue to support each other. I’m looking forward to your submissions! 🙂

And for another enjoyable writing exercise take a look at http://theaatkinson.wordpress.com

7 responses to “What do you see?

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  3. A short one for you this time – and a twist on it too, I just can’t help myself.

    The birds flew at each other, feathers ripped and scattering across the grass. No blood had been shed yet but it wouldn’t be long.
    The surrounding crowd cheered. “Go on, get him good!”
    No-one was sure who had started it. They were always fighting, just as their fathers and grandfathers had hated and fought each other all through their school days. The older generation had somehow found an uneasy peace in adulthood but the memories of their teens ran deep. They still glared across the room at parent’s evenings, but it was always the same one who looked away first.
    But this was the children, again, looking like their fathers and behaving like them too. .
    The birds fought viciously, pecking at eyes, tearing at one another.
    “Go for his tail!” Someone yelled, clear above the cacophony of cheers, boos, groans.
    “That will be quite enough of that!” A louder voice, behind the encircling crowd of children. He pushed through, they parted to let him pass. He’d earned their respect before most of them had even been born.
    He raised his wand and the birds transformed into two battered, angry boys, pinned to the spot.
    “Does anyone else want to join these two in my office?”
    The crowd melted away, but not before he’d taken mental note of most of the faces.
    “Albus Potter, Scorpius Malfoy, into my office, now. I will be informing your Heads of House and your parents.”
    “Sorry, Professor Longbottom. He started it, he called Lily a mudblood!” The shorter boy protested.
    “Be quiet for now, you can both tell me in my office. Now, move. You know the way.” He propelled the two boys ahead of him, muttering. “Underage transformation, fighting on school premises.” He ticked off the list of misdemeanours on his fingers as they reached the herbology greenhouses where he kept his untidy office.
    “Albus,” he whispered, afterwards “get Scorpius to ask his father about the time a Professor here turned him into a ferret.” He winked.

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