Writer’s Workshop #4 – A Quiet Basement in An Empty Alley

Welcome back.

We’re doing things a little differently today.

First, I actually got a picture of the thing I’m describing; a basement I spied on the way to work, through a barred window, in an alley that’s usually locked.

Second, I’m posting that picture after my description. I figure it’ll make comparisons between my writing and the real thing a little more honest.

The real goal here though: to create a character by describing a location.

Let’s get to it.

~~~

There was nowhere to walk.

In truth, there was barely anywhere to breathe. The basement was full of open space, to be sure, but that was probably because its caretaker hadn’t figured out shelves–or meat hooks–yet. When they did, he was sure the countless vignettes of abandoned projects would be smothered by the tools that had started them, swaying so they caught as much dust as possible.

There was too much for him to see, all of it free standing or precariously leaning. An opened dresser with no drawers, topped by a drink dispenser with no lid.

Something that looked like a fan.

Something else that was definitely a buzzsaw, blade ready, a wire–hopefully not its own–snaking past it and toward a wall.

There was also something extremely broken, of course, its face fractured glass, perhaps held together by a plastic bag; it was surrounded by things in dirty plastic bags.

And among these few, there were countless other things, as simple as wooden planks, as complex as boxes deftly wedged into other boxes. Around all of it, the normal implements of a basement–power meters, pipes and industrial light fixtures, creating deep shadows with their stark white light.

A door in the back might have said “Push,” but it looked like “Bush.” Taken with an unrealistic need to know for sure, he walked toward it.

WW4-1

~~~

That was fun. Feels good to get back to describing a thing and not a person.

If you’re a regular, thanks for coming back. Again, I will be at PAX East this weekend, so the posting schedule may get disrupted.

While I have you, I want to take this opportunity to thank everyone for the love on the super short Warframe fanfic I posted yesterday. I wasn’t sure anyone would like it, but it did really well, so thank you everyone! Also, LittleFears and gencyazarlarklubu, I really appreciate the Follows! The support is genuinely what keeps me going, so I can’t thank you enough.

If you’re new, my name is Louis Santiago, and I’m a fantasy writer based in the Bronx. My short story, “Aixa the Hexcaster,” was recently published in Mirror Dance Fantasy. However, I’m still very much learning about the writing process–still trying to figure it out. Part of that means posting on here every weekday, even though I make absolutely no money from it. So, if you like what you read here and feel up to getting an email every weekday–a new post from me delivered right to your inbox–then please hit the Follow button at the bottom of this page. Because, even though all I get from this site is emotional support, that support means the world to me.

Either way, thank you just for visiting. And, as always, write well.

Writer’s Workshop #3 – Crazy, Teddy Bear-Headlock Lady

I’d just sat down for coffee and a bagel when she walked in. A woman in her 20’s, hair in a wiry bun at the top of her head, wearing a fuschia coat that was too baggy for her stick thin body.

At first, I thought maybe she had a disability. If so, it would’ve meant she was functional–out and about on her own–which is always a nice thing to see. My mother has taught children with learning disabilities for decades, a job focused on teaching disabled kids how to function in casual society.

At first, I also thought maybe she was nice–possibly because of the pink coat.

But then she opened her mouth.

“I don’t have time for this shit!” she belted, in a voice that made it clear she had no disability. That this was just a woman in her 20’s, pissed that no one was at the counter when she walked in.

That’s when I noticed the first teddy bear, clamped under her right arm in a tight headlock.

Another man might have thought she was taking that bear someplace–that it was a gift for a child, maybe–but I spotted a second teddy bear immediately, grasped by its face in one of her hands, a talon of thin fingers constricting a button nose.

She kept cursing, walking back and forth along the length of my local Dunkin Donuts / Taco Bell combo.

And I just set in on my bagel. Not saying anything, not telling her to simmer down.

Because I’m a New Yorker. In that moment, I was wearing a t-shirt with a giant, smiling cat on it, rosy-cheeked as it thought of burning a house down. It is not the most embarrassing shirt I’ve ever worn, but it’s close. And yet, I was still outside, wearing it, not caring. Because I’ve seen people do worse things than this woman, wear worse things than my shirt, and not a one of them had been violently crazy.

We’re just a bizarre city.

One bite of my bagel, one sip of my coffee, and she was gone, disturbing no one–never really making a scene.

And a half hour later, while I was in F.Y.E., the bell for the front door chimed. The employees at the counter let up a little cheer–a fond greeting. I looked up from the Nuka Cola shirt I was about to buy, and there she was, smiling, waving, both teddy bears still clamped close to her body.

I smiled.

~~~

Thanks for reading!

If you’re a regular, I appreciate you stopping by again. If you liked what you read, please drop a Like–it helps me determine what my readers enjoy on here.

If you’re new, my name is Louis Santiago, and I’m a fantasy writer based in the Bronx. My short story, “Aixa the Hexcaster,” was recently published in Mirror Dance Fantasy. However, I’m still very much learning about the writing process–still trying to figure it out. Part of that means posting on here every weekday, even though I make absolutely no money from it. So, if you like what you read here and feel up to getting an email every weekday–a new post from me delivered right to your inbox–then please hit the Follow button at the bottom of this page. Because, even though all I get from this site is emotional support, that support means the world to me.

But no matter what you do, no matter where you come from, thanks for checking out my site. And, as always, write well.