Telling Tuesdays 3/20/12 : "It was raining."

Welcome to Telling Tuesday, a day reminiscent of those in school when I looked forward to seeing what everyone brought for show and tell. This weekly feature was inspired by an article on WriteToDone.com, called "How to Show (Not Tell): A Writing Lesson from John LeCarre."


It is one of the best articles I've seen on the rule all writers know--show, don't tell--because it doesn't just tell us how not to tell, it shows us some of LeCarre's very own examples.

" . . . descriptions can set the scene, convey the inexpressible, and turn the reader into a witness, instead of remaining a mere bystander." -- Mary Jaksch, author of the article

Each week, I'll give a "telling" prompt, and invite you to show us, to make us a witness, not a mere bystander. Feel free to use the prompt, or the photo (if a photo is shown.) Of course, if you have a completely different "telling" prompt, you can "show" us that, too.


As always, I invite you to leave a link to your website or blog with your comments.


THIS WEEK'S PROMPT:


The following is my first attempt at writing romance. (We all have to step out of our comfort zones sometime.) I've already received some excellent critique from my writers' group, especially my friend,  Ruth Weeks, and I welcome whatever comments you might have.

It was raining. 

     It was raining that morning in Kyoto. Asako's kimono clung to her body, wet and cold as she ran across the street to find cover. Weaving her way through the crowds of people seeking shelter, she didn’t pay attention to where she stepped and the sole of her geta caught a pothole. She tripped and fell into the mud.

A young man ran to her and offered his hand. “Are you all right?” he asked as he helped her up.

She smoothed her kimono and bowed in gratitude. “Yes, I’m fine, thank you,” she replied, looking into his chestnut eyes.

When he smiled and nodded, said, "Good," in a velvety voice, when his keen gaze watched as she smoothed her kimono, something inside her warmed. In a flash, she knew her world would never be the same.

Though she could not break away from his gaze, she knew she she must be a terrible sight. Wet hair.  Smeared makeup. Her face surely had become a noh mask, a ghostly demon disguise. Embarrassed, she pushed away and stared down at the rain splashing in the puddles.

A loud clap of thunder startled her and snapped her back to reality.

Stupid girl. You are a maiko. Soon you will be a geisha. Stop your lovesick thoughts!

She ran for shelter from the rain, from him.

But he grabbed her arm and pulled her back so violently her geta fell off her foot. A second later, a rickshaw rumbled past and ran over her shoe, burying it in the mud.

When she turned to thank him, she was once again whisked away from the hectic, rainy world and the two stood alone in silence. She watched the gentle journey of water droplets as they fell from his black hair and trickled over high cheekbones before resting on firm lips.

She prayed the tingling she felt was only the raindrops upon her skin. 

God Winked

Wednesday before Thanksgiving, I drove to the airport to pick up my daughter, my mind racing with a frenetic "To-Do" list for the coming days:

1) Pick up last minute, forgotten items at the grocery store. (I did this about four times.)
2) Go to the bakery to pick up birthday cake.
3) Purchase extra pillows for overnight guests.
4) BUY LIQUOR.
5) Clean the toilets.

Faster than the miles that ticked on the odometer, I added new items to my list:

6) Pick up more candles.
7) Look for the tablecloths.
8) Buy pretty paper plates.

I changed stations on my XM Radio from Fox News Talk, to 60's music. I needed something upbeat, no arguing about the same old political stuff on that day! When I couldn't get into the song that played, I changed stations again, this time to Oprah Radio with Maya Angelou.

I cleared my mind of thoughts just long enough to hear her say, "I thank God for rainy days." She told the story of preparing for a large outdoor party, when suddenly, dark clouds began to form, and a downpour began. But she said she thanked God for that rain, because it gave her the opportunity to be more creative, and it made her thankful for the good friends she had who helped her pull the party together indoors.

Profound, yet so simple. What we count as our blessings is all a matter of perspective.

So, though Wednesday it was sunny and warm, a perfect day to sit outside around the fire pit, Thanksgiving Day had turned bitterly cold and rainy, with sleet and snow later in the afternoon. The weather kept my 22 guests locked up in the house with me as I chopped, stirred, slurped, sipped, and washed, and NOT outside enjoying cool, crisp autumn air near the fire pit scented by burning cedar.

But, it also allowed me to enjoy bits and pieces of everyone's conversation. It kept my sisters and children close by, constantly offering help in the kitchen.

Any time I felt the hustle and bustle of Thanksgiving tightening in my back, I looked outside at the first snowfall of the season, even at the sleeting rain and thought to myself, "Thank God for rainy days." And looking around at the people I loved, I was reminded of all I have to be thankful for.

We really did forget to make the gravy! (And unfortunately, didn't take many pictures, either!)