Write one paragraph containing 1 fact about yourself and 3 fictions, then another paragraph with 1 fiction and 3 facts about yourself. They can be in any order and I find it is best not to label them. As you can see below, I have left it for the reader to either accept what is written at more or less face value, or they are of course always invited to make their own conclusions. Try it yourself, it is a simple writing practice that could lead to a creative stream of something more in depth…
I am a man with ambitions to rule the world. I watch already the kingdoms fall beneath my feet albeit only the insect kingdom of the fly I just swatted or that of the cat as she rubs endlessly on my leg, or at least until I give her dinner. Should kings stoop so low? I must be one of those benevolent ones.
Neither born of Scotland nor having eked a living on her silvered shores I am yet Scottish. Age draws me back relentless and clawing and pulling and drawing; the paper mache mask of my life being stripped back slither by pulpy slither to reveal my real identity. I am coming home.
Exercise:
Write one paragraph containing 1 fact about yourself and 3 fictions, then another paragraph with 1 fiction and 3 facts about yourself. They can be in any order and I find it is best not to label them. As you can see below, I have left it for the reader to either accept what is written at more or less face value, or they are of course always invited to make their own conclusions. Try it yourself, it is a simple writing practice that could lead to a creative stream of something more in depth…
I am a man with ambitions to rule the world. I watch already the kingdoms fall beneath my feet albeit only the insect kingdom of the fly I just swatted or that of the cat as she rubs endlessly on my leg, or at least until I give her dinner. Should kings stoop so low? I must be one of those benevolent ones.
Neither born of Scotland nor having eked a living on her silvered shores I am yet Scottish. Age draws me back relentless and clawing and pulling and drawing; the paper mache mask of my life being stripped back slither by pulpy slither to reveal my real identity. I am coming home.