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 125: She started down the hall.
She started down the hall. The directions were simple and easy to follow. Gwen found the door, climbed the stairs and found the next door. She entered a spacious room that had just as many cabinets along the outer walls as the bakery did. There were no worktables though. Instead there was a circle of easels placed around what looked a bit like a central alter.
She was not the first one to arrive. Gwen smiled politely at the others wondering if there were assigned spots or not. The other students all seemed to know each other and unlike the bakery, there wasn’t a uniform to make everyone feel the same as well as part of the group.
While she opted for a simple jeans and long sleeved outfit, figuring that there was the likelihood of paint or charcoal dust getting onto her clothes, others dressed with more artistic flare. They didn’t seem as worried about spatters and smears as she was.
‘Although my dress is pretty plain by comparison anyway.’ Gwen thought. The rest of these in the room were around her age but their clothing seemed to be artistic as well. She recognized several pieces from magazines and videos of recent runways. While Gwen tended to dress for the days’ activity and occasionally dressed up for things, she loved watching the creations of the designers, even though she knew they would be impractical in her daily life. Most of the garments here came straight from the runway. Gwen admired them, but still knew if the items were in her closet, she wouldn’t wear them here.
Gwen had moved away from the door and towards the knot of people talking and laughing on the other side of the room. They gave no notice that they saw her. Before she could reach them a woman came through the door. She clapped her hands.
“Alright everyone, it’s good to see so many faces back again this summer,” she said. “And we have someone new.” She looked to Gwen and smiled. “You must be Gwen. Welcome.”
“Thanks,” Gwen said.
The woman smiled again and then turned back to the rest of the class. Places at your easels everyone. There is paper already out, and we will be starting with our charcoals.”
Everyone in the room moved and Gwen hung back not wanting to take anyone’s accustomed spot. She hadn’t realized that this group met here every summer. That she was entering a fixed group. “The new kid,” she thought.
Ten til Midnight 