“I’m from Great Falls,” she told him. “Me and my friends.” She flipped her carefully curling-ironed brown hair toward the back of the bus...
...As they spoke, Hannah felt the bus slowing. To their right was a carved wooden sign with an arrow pointing up a rutted gravel lane, Camp High Ridge. The bus down shifted and the engine seemed to grind as they turned onto the narrow road heading up. Here we go, she thought.
Word count: 4318
(I'm hoping to make up some words over the weekend!)
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
NaNoWriMo Day 3
The door to the shed was open when Hannah got there, and she rolled the wheel barrow to its customary place behind the lawn mower. As she turned to leave, she heard low voices coming from the open studio window right outside the door...
... “What are you looking at?” the girl asked when she caught Hannah’s eye.
“Not much,” Hannah shrugged and turned her shoulder.
Hunter snorted, but the girl ignored it. “I’m Amy,” she introduced herself.
Total word count: 3839
Monday, November 2, 2009
NaNoWriMo Day 2
The next couple of days passed in a blur of packing and shopping. The camp had sent a list of required and recommended items, and because the whole thing was so spur-of the-moment, they needed most of them. Sleeping bags, packs, canteens, compasses, hats, rain gear, hiking boots, bug spray and first aid kits were piled high in the corner of the dining room. They both needed physicals and tetanus shots, too. Under different circumstances, it might have been fun, but Hannah found herself moving through the days lethargically, as if she was already carrying the red backpack that topped her collection of gear...
...The next morning, her parents acted like nothing unusual had happened the night before, and the furnace was working fine, water gurgled quietly through the radiators.
Total word count: 3011
...The next morning, her parents acted like nothing unusual had happened the night before, and the furnace was working fine, water gurgled quietly through the radiators.
Total word count: 3011
Sunday, November 1, 2009
NaNoWriMo Day 1
It's crazy, but I just wanted to give the novel writing challenge a try. My plan for the month is to post my first and last paragraph for the day along with my word count. May you all be my witnesses.
Hannah Wilder stared out the window of the bus. Barbed wire and blackberry brambles lined field after field of corn or tobacco as they rolled up and down the hilly two-lane road. She recognized the crops from car trips with her parents. Her mother always drove, and her father always quizzed them from the passenger seat. “What’s the name of this river?” he’d ask every time they headed north to visit her grandparents...
...Hannah and Greg looked at each other, and stood quickly, scraping their chairs back. They followed their mother to the kitchen but continued out the back door. Hannah was a few feet ahead, but they both knew where they were going. Three summers ago, their parents had built a tree house in the big mulberry in the corner of the backyard. Her tears were falling furiously when Hannah hit the ladder, and she could hear Greg choking on sobs behind her. Once safely inside, she sat down hard, wrapped her arms around her legs and cried. Greg leaned against her, and it was the sound of his misery that finally broke through her own. She put an arm around him and wiped her face. He continued to weep for a few more minutes, but she squeezed his shoulder and whispered that it would be all right.
Word count: 1591
Hannah Wilder stared out the window of the bus. Barbed wire and blackberry brambles lined field after field of corn or tobacco as they rolled up and down the hilly two-lane road. She recognized the crops from car trips with her parents. Her mother always drove, and her father always quizzed them from the passenger seat. “What’s the name of this river?” he’d ask every time they headed north to visit her grandparents...
...Hannah and Greg looked at each other, and stood quickly, scraping their chairs back. They followed their mother to the kitchen but continued out the back door. Hannah was a few feet ahead, but they both knew where they were going. Three summers ago, their parents had built a tree house in the big mulberry in the corner of the backyard. Her tears were falling furiously when Hannah hit the ladder, and she could hear Greg choking on sobs behind her. Once safely inside, she sat down hard, wrapped her arms around her legs and cried. Greg leaned against her, and it was the sound of his misery that finally broke through her own. She put an arm around him and wiped her face. He continued to weep for a few more minutes, but she squeezed his shoulder and whispered that it would be all right.
Word count: 1591
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Twenty-Five Hours a Day
Take that DST...
Friday, October 30, 2009
Last to Know
Today, when the kids in my last period class met me in the computer lab, they were very excited. "Is it true that someone stole a car from the parking lot?" one student asked, breathlessly. I hadn't heard a word about it, and I said as much, adding that I hoped it wasn't my car.
I gave the directions for the assignment, and they had just settled in when one of the administrators made a rare mid-day announcement that all teachers should check their e-mail immediately. The kids watched with raised eyebrows as I sauntered over to my workstation like it was no big deal. They're sixth graders; they don't know that such interruptions are very uncommon. I played it off, too, and not a single student asked what the message said, which was that we were in a lockdown due to police activity on and around our campus. Hmm.
The class ended and my meeting and planning time began with no further word about either the lockdown or the situation that brought it on. When a substitute teacher stopped by our team meeting to say that he was on his way out, we had to inform him that it might not be possible to leave the building. A little while later, it was he who told us that the lockdown was over; there was no additional information or explanation via e-mail or P.A.
Later at basketball practice, the girls were eager to fill me in on what had happened. Some guy had stolen a car in the next county over and abandoned it in our parking lot. During 7th grade lunch recess, five police units squealed up to the building and officers swarmed over the grounds, their weapons drawn. Only then were the kids hustled into the building, and the lockdown put in place.
According to the students the suspect was still at large. I took their word for it-- they seemed to know what they were talking about, and they certainly had more knowledge of the incident than I did.
Why is that?
I gave the directions for the assignment, and they had just settled in when one of the administrators made a rare mid-day announcement that all teachers should check their e-mail immediately. The kids watched with raised eyebrows as I sauntered over to my workstation like it was no big deal. They're sixth graders; they don't know that such interruptions are very uncommon. I played it off, too, and not a single student asked what the message said, which was that we were in a lockdown due to police activity on and around our campus. Hmm.
The class ended and my meeting and planning time began with no further word about either the lockdown or the situation that brought it on. When a substitute teacher stopped by our team meeting to say that he was on his way out, we had to inform him that it might not be possible to leave the building. A little while later, it was he who told us that the lockdown was over; there was no additional information or explanation via e-mail or P.A.
Later at basketball practice, the girls were eager to fill me in on what had happened. Some guy had stolen a car in the next county over and abandoned it in our parking lot. During 7th grade lunch recess, five police units squealed up to the building and officers swarmed over the grounds, their weapons drawn. Only then were the kids hustled into the building, and the lockdown put in place.
According to the students the suspect was still at large. I took their word for it-- they seemed to know what they were talking about, and they certainly had more knowledge of the incident than I did.
Why is that?
Thursday, October 29, 2009
I'm a Cool Teacher
Because I can yo-yo and find my way out of a corn maze, not to mention make pumpkin pie out of a pumpkin. Sometimes it takes so little to impress sixth graders, but it's always nice to be appreciated.
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