Welcome to the Fifteen Minute Novel. Each morning I spend fifteen minutes writing on a singular story line. Each morning starts with the last line of the previous day. The goal is to get a (very) rough draft out of the simple story idea and to avoid letting the story idea languish in limbo forever, actually writing it out. This is the third year I have done this writing experiment and each year I learn just a little bit about myself and the way I write as well as creating a framework for the story. But without further ado…
Day 119: She didn’t want to cause a dust storm at her station.
She didn’t want to cause a dust storm at her station. Gwen moved slowly, cautiously increasing the speed of her mixer as the batter blended. She added the flour a little bit at a time, incorporating it without casing any of it to fly upwards and engulf her. When it was all in and well mixed, she turned off the machine and took the bowl out of the stand mixer. She used the silicone spatula to scrape down the sides of the bowl and make sure the mix was fully blended. Then she added in the chocolate chips. Instead of the chips from a grocery store bag which looked like miniature Hershey kisses, these chocolate bits looked like someone aid out a large, thick bat of chocolate and then attacked it with an ice pick in a fit of rage. The resulting chunks varied in size and had jagged broken edges.
Gwen measured the amount that was mentioned and stirred the chunks in. They didn’t look like enough so she added just a few more. She decided it was enough as she stirred them in and looked up to find the instructor watching her.
Gwen felt her cheeks pink from the scrutiny and turned back to the bowl. The made sure the parchment paper was in place and then began scooping out the dough into neat little mounds. When the tray was filled it went into the oven. The timer was set and Gwen began cleaning up her station.
Still feeling like she was being watched, Gwen made certain her station was pristine and the rack in place by the time the cookies were ready to take out of the oven. Gwen removed them and turned the oven off. She placed the cookie pan on the rack and looked at them.
The cookies looked warm and inviting and smelled amazing. ‘Not half bad,’ she thought. Seeing the chocolate was still shiny and liquid from the heat she resisted the urge to take a bite of one of the cookies. She looked around instead.
Others were beginning to take their cookies from the rack. Some had cookies that looked more or less identical to hers, others didn’t. The man who caused the flour explosion had cookies that looked a little bit flatter and wider than hers. Many of them merged together to make one large cookie. Others were harder and crisper. Some were smaller or larger. There was a much wider variety of results than Gwen would have expected from the batches considering they all used the same recipe.
When he noticed they had all removed their cookies and turned off the ovens, their instructor took a slow stroll around the room. His hands were clasped behind his back and he studied each of the trays, looking at the results of their efforts. His face was blank, showing no approval or disapproval for any batch. The room was silent as he paced.
Finally he returned to the front of the room. “Who would like to tell me why we started with a chocolate chip cookie recipe on our first day?” he asked.
Gwen frowned and looked around. Thoughts swam in her head but none of them seemed like the appropriate answer.
“Because all of us would know what they are,” one of the boys her age ventured.
“In part,” the instructor said. “Any other reason?”
Ten til Midnight 