Color Quandary
by Kelsey Clark
When I am stuck
for ideas on what to write about it seems like I will never be able to write
again. Sometimes I get stuck because I have too many ideas and just can’t seem
to get them out. Other times I feel like I have no good ideas left at all. When
either of those things happens to me, I know that I just have to start writing
again and I will get back into the swing of things. One idea I have used to get
writing again is this:
Writercize:
Focus your attention on color. Pick one basic color and start your story from
these. It can be a poem, a description, or even an entire story can start from
your color choice.
All you have to do is come up with a color and get started
writing. If you have trouble or get stuck just think of things that are that
color and include them in your writing. Here are some colors and objects to get
you started, or you can think of your own:
·
Red –
blood, cherry, lip, rose, crimson, rust, ruby, fire engine, barn, raspberry
·
Blue –
moon, blueberry, sky, sea, navy, cerulean, cobalt, sapphire, indigo
·
Yellow –
sun, star, buttercup, sunflower, butter, wheat, rubber duck, taxi, lemon
·
Green –
tree, leaf, grass, mold, broccoli, kiwi, lime, jade, emerald
It was a blue
day. There was just no other way to describe it. I knew that I was feeling
down, but it wasn’t just my imagination. The glimpses I got of the night sky
were dark blue, almost navy, as the rain clouds hung heavy and grey-blue,
trudging their slow path across the horizon. The rain, a pale, translucent
blue, gathered in the upside down umbrella before me; it’s happy, bright,
bluebird blue almost glowing in the dim light of a, you guessed it, blue moon.
If I had ever liked the color blue before, the fondness had now been driven
completely from me. Besides, blue was his favorite color and I had enough
reminders of him, thank you very much.
The bright
yellow taxi that pulled up in front of me seemed as blinding as the sun, and
the taxi driver that got out was equally as surreal. His canary-yellow rain
coat squeaked as he splashed through the puddles to open the rear passenger
door for me. He stood in a several inch deep puddle, grinning at me as I stared
at his lemon-colored galoshes. I got into the taxi, the blond faux-leather
seats ripped but clean, and we set off. As he drove I watched his hands move
across the wheel and wondered at the mustard tinted fingertips. How many
cigarettes must he smoke to make his wizened hands so spectacularly stained?
Author Byline:
Kelsey is the editor in chief for www.findananny.net/. She loves to write
article and ideas that parents & nannies would be interested in hearing.
She helps society on giving information about nannies through nanny services.
She is a professional writer & loves writing on anything.
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