Writer's Challenge 1

Hey all

Okay, this is somewhat (but not entirely) like the Writer's workshops that appear every so often. In the Writer's Challenge - you will be set a particular writing challenge for the month...should you choose to accept it.

This is about getting creative and getting feedback while thinking outside the box.

The first challenge is to write a character who is blind. Visual clues and surroundings are the greatest used descriptors in any fanfic. To write from the perspective of someone who is blind you have to use your other senses to get the message across. You don't need to write about how they feel to be blind, but just write a scene from their perspective.

If you decide to take up the challenge - post your final bit here and people can get feedback (or you can just keep it to yourself and see if you can do it). We can also talk about how hard or easy it was to do and what future challenges you would like to see.

Kithera

Link to Second Writer's Challenge

 

Sounds interesting...I don't know about doing all the challanges (I'm notorious for finishing things late), but I'd like to try out the first one, if that's ok...

Great idea, Kit'!

 

Interesting idea Kit' and I may just take you up on that 1st challenge. I can write it as a scene for my current fic and simply plug it in later when I'm ready. The idea of a character who is blind works well with what I had in mind, thanks!

 

I WOULD take you up on that, Kit', but I actually am planning on having a blind character in my Shadows of Conflict series, and I'm not nearly ready to bring him in.

Anyway, I can post the link here when he finally makes his debut, assuming this thread isn't locked.

 

Hey all

I suppose, although I didn't really want people to use pre-existing posts as much as take the challenge and do a short viggie instead.

IF you want to link to it after the character has come in, then that's cool Ty-gon - although maybe doing this challenge now would let you work on his character


I do have a blind character already, and this challenge is in response to the difficulty I've found in writing from her perspective.

Kithera

 

I'll not cheat by dragging out a scene where I've already done this. It's a great idea, so I'll do a whole new one.

 

hey Lillith! Sorry, haven't seen you in a long time...

Perhaps when I'm finished this current assignment, I'll get time to pop up my own version of the challenge (which would be nice as I set the damn thing!).

Kithera

 

Very good challenge, Kit! If I get the chance to, I might write something up.

 

Ooooo, I've been thinking of writing a certain character blind in a story I'm planning, if I have the time I think I'll do this challenge and write a viggie for practice. Great idea!

 

hmmmmm little question:

does the character have to be BLIND (in the sense that even if it's brightest of day outside still can't see) or can he/she just BE BLINDED (dumped in a black hole with no light)?

BTW I love the idea of regular challanges... gives me something to think about when sitting in boring classes

 

Stoopid question

...

I post my thingy in here, right?

I mean, I guess that would make sense, but I just wanna make sure I don't waste my creative drive in the wrong place

EDIT: never mind. I just re-read the first post, and it is so. I'll post mine sooner or later.

 

Can the character be blind and deaf and Force sensitive?

 

Can I post a snippet for my new fic with a blind dude?

 

i'd rather the character was just blind - they can be force-sensative...but this is an excercise on describing a situation without using visual descriptors.

And yes, here is good


Kithera

 

What about temporary blindness lasting for the duration of the piece?

-Tim

 

If you want to

Temporary blindness is fine.

I should finish mine sometime today

Kithera

 

[edit] First story in.

Well, I decided to respond to the challenge, and wrote a 3 page vignette a few days ago. Finally got around to writing the last few paragraphs, as I got interrupted when I was almost done. I basically decided to do it because a lot of different people have commented on the imagery in my stories - how strong it is. I think one even described as 'reading a movie'. So I thought this would be a fun thing to try.

It was kind of difficult . . . I was trying to just focus on the present (that's why I wrote it in present tense), but some thoughts on her blindness/past slipped in anyway. Slipped a lot. And I think some of my attempts at descriptions are kind of silly. I clearly need some more practice.

Also, a quick question - can I post this in the Before the Saga board, or does it have to stay here?

~*~*~
Smoke
~*~*~

His presence is heralded by more than the deep well of strength he feels like in the Force; there is a change in the air, a subtle alteration that means he is present. Then, as he comes closer, I begin to smell him, as air currents waft his scent over to me. As always, it?s a combination of many scents ? his clothing, his soap, his sweat. It?s another thing to mark him as being him.

?What are you thinking about, Tahl?? he asks quietly, knowing better than to announce his presence as if I were helpless and irritate me. His breathing is slow and calm, not shallow and harsh, as it would be if he were upset. I remember he was to speak to the Council about something before coming here to me, but whatever it was, it must have gone well.

I consider my response. I could hardly tell Qui-Gon I was thinking about him . . . can?t let the old boy get arrogant. ?Smoke,? I reply.

?Smoke?? A shift in the Force, a sense of movement. I let my fingers barely brush against his cloak as he passes by me, knowing by the rough texture than he is wearing a new one, instead of one the many worn and soft ones he possesses. He sits across from me, somewhere on my small couch, settling comfortably after a few moments. I lean back against my chair, and nod sightlessly. I don?t even bother to do it in his general direction. I?ve found that knowing what people are doing, when you?re not even looking at them ? as I cannot ? often has an unnerving effect. And I couldn?t let an opportunity to disconcert Qui-Gon pass by, after all. What would be the fun in that? Though I think he?s catching on . . .

?Why smoke?? Qui-Gon asks me.

I shrug, then after a moment reply anyway. ?It?s easy to remember.?

Another pause, a small hitch in his steady breathing, then the steady resumption that to me, indicated thought. I could sense a diffused uncertainty in the Force. ?What do you mean?? he asks.

?Smoke . . . it?s always changing, never the same. Always moving.? I reach out, keeping track of where my hand was relative to my body, remembering where the glass was when I trailed my fingertips over it as I sat down, and grasp the full glass without a hitch.

?I don?t understand,? Qui-Gon admits. I smile at him, turning my head to face him. I can feel his intensity, his focus sharper than his earlier uncertainty.

I take a sip of my tea, unhurriedly, letting the faintly bitter taste spread on my tongue before swallowing. I didn?t used to like this tea, finding it too bland, but now I enjoy it?s subtle flavor. I put the glass down again, the constant awareness of where I was in relation to other things keeping me from making a mistake. And that dreadful robot Yoda helpfully insisted on giving me isn?t around ? locked in the closet, actually ? to clean up any spills.

?It?s taken some time, but I?m starting to forget,? I say finally. ?There are so many things that you forgot, from day to day, even Jedi. The little details, a gray hair there, a mole here, the way you can see the texture of a painting . . . Just the little things. Until things are smoothed and streamlined in your mind.? I shook my head. ?Not smoke.?

?Ah,? he says, with a not

 

Here's my shot at it.

---

[b]It Will Be Enough[/b]

The streets of Mos Eisley were always busy this time of the day, but Optal had no trouble hearing the young noise arguing with the used-speeder sales-being across from his hortical stand. ?Look, take a look at the condition of this engine,? the young noise pleaded.

The sales-being gibbered something in Huttese, the ruling language on Tatooine, a planet ruled by the notorious gangsters known as Hutts.

?Well, yeah, the cowling?s missing,? the young noise admitted. ?But that can easily be replaced with some off of one of these other junkers here.?

Optal heard an amused snort and footsteps from someone approaching his vegetable stand. ?Hello, gentle-being,? he said in Basic. ?Can I interest you in a bowl of [i]karakas[/i] for your pre-first twilight meal??

?Not today, Optal, my old friend,? an aged, yet strong masculine voice said. ?But maybe a pallie if you have one or two.?

Optal recognized the voice. ?Ah, good to see you again, Ben,? he said with a smile. ?Unless Bartow has been sleeping, I should have a whole basketful over here.? Optal?s chair swiveled and his hand pawed at the air. ?Bartow, where are you??

Just behind him, a trained [i]fizzgorra[/i] toad lashed out it?s tongue to tap the back of Optal?s hand. He continued his turn as the tongue tapped his hand again, but gentler, indicating to Optal that he was getting closer to the [i]fizzgorra[/i]. When Optal?s hand was just above the creatures head, it slowly licked his palm.

?Ah, there you are,? Optal said, patting the bulbous creature's wedge-shaped head. ?Thank you.? He reached pass the lounging toad?s body and into a basket of pallies, just as Ben Kenobi had asked for. ?Two pallies, my friend,? Optal declared, turning to where he last heard Ben?s voice. ?That?ll be fifty centi-creds.?

The two slightly-dried pieces of fruit in his hand were replaced by the requested payment. ?Thank you, Optal,? Ben said before sinking his teeth into a pallie.

Optal nodded acknowledgement as he returned his repulsor-chair to it?s original position, his left hand searching for another [i]fizzgorra[/i] toad. He didn?t call for it, but the creature shot out it?s tongue to help guide his master back to where he wanted to be. ?Easy, Fastious.? Optal patted the creature?s massive head. ?I know you won?t let me get lost, but I have no intention to wander far, anyway.?

Five times larger than the other [i]fizzgorra[/i] toads guarding each basket of Optal?s wares, Fastious seemed to ?hurrumph? in reply to Optal?s assurance that he wouldn?t wander away.

?Your reptilian-friend doesn?t seem to believe your words,? Ben Kenobi said from the other side of the low counter. ?Have you been wandering off without them??

That was one of the things Optal liked best about the old hermit. He always seemed to have a friendly-lightness in his voice unlike anyone or anything that wandered through Mos Eisley. ?No,? he answered. ?I think they?re worried about something else. Have you noticed anything unusual going on around here??

Ben stopped eating his pallie. ?There does seem to be an unusually high Imperial presence in town.?

Optal inclined his head, absorbing Ben?s words. ?I thought I heard an abnormally high amount of armor clanking going-on. Either that or Jabba the Hutt has hired some pretty dangerous sounding guards for himself.? He cocked his head in thought. ?There have been some murmurs about---?

One of the [i]fizzgorras[/i] watching a basket on his left cried out. ?BRAHK, BRAHK!?

Optal snatched the stun-baton he always kept on his lap and reached out to his left. ?Get away, you!? he shouted, striking the hand of a surprised Jawa. ?And don?t think my toad caught ya, because I could smell you coming from a mile away!? The Jawa scurried away while Optal reached into a deep pocket in his jacket. ?There you go, Worfo,? he cooed, feeding a treat to the creature who had called the alarm. ?Good job.?

?Ever alert, as always,? Ben observed with a smile in his voice.

?The best trained [i]fizzgor

 

Allow me to take a stab at it. I aim to integrate this into the fan fic I'm trying to write.

---

[b]The Sound of Fury[/b]

The sound of Imperial-issue boots striking the cold, metallic bridge floor was growing increasingly louder. Lieutenant Otis Brighton twisted the cords around his fingers, occasionally letting them tighten to the point where he was certain that blood was failing to reach the ends of his fingers. He reveled in the slight numbing sensations that occurred when he increased the constrictions, but he would occasionally tell himself to stop fidgeting.

He enjoyed his post on board the Star Destroyer Eradicator, and probably enjoyed his notoriety even more. Otis Brighton was the only tactical officer in the Imperial Fleet who was blind. Just about the only thing which dampened his enjoyment was Admiral Genteal. Otis often figeted when he passed by, for although most of the crew were supportive and friendly towards him, the Admiral generally was not. He hadn?t yet determined if it was because the Admiral was jealous of his notoriety, or if it was just another case of an Imperial officer believing that belittling an underling was the ideal motivational tool.

The footsteps slowed slightly as they fell behind Otis, and began to increase in frequency once again after passing him by. That was close. It was the Admiral, of course.

The bridge was full of low level noise and chatter which Otis had long ago learned to filter out, but there was no mistaking those footsteps. From what he gleaned in conversations with his crewmates he knew that Genteal wasn?t overweight, but he was obviously a large man Otis reasoned, because no one?s boots made quite as much noise. He lessened the grip the audio cords had on his fingers. Perhaps the Admiral was going to leave him alone for a while this afternoon.

After letting the blood flow back into his fingers, and feeling the odd, prickly sensation in the tips, he traced the smooth, cold cords back to the headset to which they were attached. He slowly began to bring the device to his ears, when the Admiral?s booming voice rose above the din.

?What do you mean ?We?ve lost the signal??? the Admiral raged. Otis imagined that if he could see, he?d find the Admiral?s face turning red. There was definitely a quiver in the voice as he continued, ?That transmission was from the office of Emperor Palpatine himself! An important announcement to every Admiral in the fleet will be issued in a half hour!?

The overall noise level on the bridge dropped noticeably, but the Admiral only got louder. Otis imagined that Genteal rather enjoyed the attention. ?If you don?t get that signal back by the time I return to my ready room I?ll jettison you towards the first planet we orbit. Without a pod!?

The Admiral proceeded to stomp away from the communications officer?s station with an even greater emphasis, which Otis hadn?t thought possible. He turned his head back to his own station and was just about to place the headset over his ears when he noticed that the steps had failed to proceed beyond him. He froze. The bridge was unbelievably quiet, with the exception of the communications officer giving hurried whispered commands, and the sound of loud breathing which was coming directly over his head.

?Lieutenant Brighton?? Genteal's voice growled in a carefully measured tone.

?Yes, sir?? Otis replied. Maybe he?s giving that guy a little extra time to get the signal back, he thought. He resisted the urge to wrap the cord around his fingers again. Oddly, he could feel people looking his way.

?Did you enjoy the show?? he demanded, as his voice rose slightly.

?I never gain any pleasure from the misfortune of others, sir.? Otis bluffed. Truthfully, he did gain some pleasure out of it, but only with respect to the troubles of Genteel himself.

?Well, that?s what separates you from the ambitious officers on board, who intend on making themselves useful tools of the Empire. Sadly, it seems that the crippled nature of your vision extends

 

Well done, BigE, very well done.

Sadly, it seems that the crippled nature of your vision extends beyond the physical.

Oh, I'd like to hear the Admiral say that in front of Darth Vader. May then he'll get jettisoned into space without a pod.

 

Red?


"Hey, we're hungry over here. Get moving already."

"Of course, patron, your order has been logged and is almost ready."

Dishes rattled, glasses clinked, utensils scraped, and voices rose and fell. It was hard on her sensitive ears, but Quee didn't have a whole lot of choice. There weren't many job openings for what amounted to unskilled laborers and renting living space wasn't as cheap as she'd thought it would be. Scuttling out of the way of a trio of newcomers, the heavy thudding of their feet making nearby dishes dance, Joe's Diner's newest waitress stepped up to the edge of the booth designated as table twelve.

"Welcome patrons. Are you ready to place your order?"

There was a rumble of assent around the table, and Quee tried not to breathe. If the noise in this place was bad, the smell was often worse. So many of these beings ... it must simply be a species genetic trait because she couldn't imagine that every individual Human that walked into Joe's Diner could be that lax in personal hygiene. The stench of these four was overwhelming.

"Yeah, it'll be an order of sliders all around, lum, and a bowl of pretzels."

Quee jabbed with her stylus at the memory pad in her left major hand, while her left minor tugged nervously at the hem of her apron, adjusting the hang of the uncomfortable thing. She'd needed to cut a hole in the middle of it in order to breathe.

"So that's four orders of sliders, four lums, and a bowl of pretzels." At the affirmative growl, she bobbed her front knees slightly. "I'll be back with your order as soon as it is ready, good patrons." Tucking her arms in to avoid jostling any of the other beings, Quee turned and moved back toward the kitchen.

"Oh, Quee, table seven is asking for more rill sauce and Tess and I have got our hands full with the hunting party in the back room. Could you take care of it?" The mellow voice was courteously low in volume, the scent dry, slightly floral, and tinged with the ever-present reek of grease.

"Of course, Ana'klee."

"Thanks, darling." The Twi'lek stepped around her, accompanied by the scrape of heavily laden ceramics and the smell of burnt flesh. Hunting party, right, they had probably brought their own meat with them.

Fingers dancing across the tops of the condiment containers lined up haphazardly in the serving area, Quee snatched the right one by feel and slipped the thick glass bottle into an apron pocket.

"Order up." The call was preceded by a shrill beep. Quee hated it, the sound made her teeth ache and set her scilia on end. There was a shuffle of feet as other nearby servers perked up to listen. "Table eight."

Quee whipped out her memory pad and ran a finger delicately over the series of small holes in the soft putty-like material. Right. Shoving the pad back into its pocket, she began lifting plates from the counter. All four hands full, she rotated neatly on her four feet to avoid hitting a hurried server with a laden dish. A week ago she'd have lost the plate in her right major hand and Lez would have had to go change.

Weaving through the busy isles, thankful to the Maker that her torso was balanced equidistant between her legs and not jutting out to one end like some of these beings, Quee listened carefully to avoid tripping a patron or losing her load. Table seven got their bottle of rill sauce on the way past and at table eight she carefully deposited the plates, perking up slightly as she detected a new scent and new sound set.

"One order of sliders, one galactic special, one veggie plate, two muja cocktails and a flameout. Would the new member of your party wish to order something, patrons?"

"Thanks, I'm-"

The sharp buzzing hum of a vibro weapon cut through the rest of the patrons words, loud in her sensitive hearing. The scent of blood washed outward from the vicinity of table twenty, followed quickly by a piercing scream. The sound buffeted her aural receptors, and Quee instinctively wrapped her arms around her torso, palms pres

 

When I think of blind, I think of Snake Eyes from G-I Joe. I'll try to create this character with out using Snake Eyes with a lazersaber. I'll design the person with a Dungeons and Dragons character generator first so that I can imagine what he'll look like, and how he'll act using his senses.

 

Okay, here's my (probably pathetic) attempt. Please criticize. I find that most helpful.

**********************************

Someone is coming.

?Who is it?? Viva?s sister whispered.

?Hush.? The two sisters huddled in the basement straining to hear the sounds above them. Viva wanted to ask her little sister what she could see but in the black darkness she was probably as blind as Viva had been since birth.

?Is it mom and dad?? the child persisted.

Viva shook her head sadly. She knew it was not her parents. Viva?s best friend had called moments before telling her that her parents had been killed by the Emperor?s stormtroopers and that the beasts were headed to their house.

How could she defend her sister? How could she protect her?

The pounding sound of methodical steps above them sent shivers down Viva?s back. What are they here for?

Her parents had always told Viva that her blindness was a blessing because it would allow her to develop her other senses in a way most others could not imagine. From her hearing, she knew that there were twelve distinct footsteps in their home. From touch, she could determine by the vibrations in the wall that there were two trying to break down the basement door. From smell, she knew that there was a dead slunge-rat nearby. And from taste she could tell that she was terrified. She truly could taste her own fear.

The door splintered to pieces.

Viva tried to hide her sister behind her.

Three stormtroopers entered the basement.

Viva?s sister squirmed to see who had come.

Viva lifted her unseeing eyes toward the intruders. ?What do you want?? Even a seeing person could notice the fear in her voice.

?The child.?

Viva heard a loud, unidentifiable noise that reverberated around the damp room. She felt fire come to life in her chest. She smelled a strange chemical that reminded her of her father?s factory. She tasted fresh blood.

Then she realized she had been shot.

As her body crumpled to the floor, she almost laughed at the thought that no blackness would come to claim her. She had always been a friend to the darkness.

Then she heard a distant scream that dissipated the laughter. Viva?s last sense was her four year old sister?s tears on her face and the girl?s scream in her ears.

 

Well, these are all great. Very interesting. All the authors are to be commended.

I particularly enjoyed, in reverse chronological order: The two sisters in the basement was interestingly set up, although - as usual since becoming a mommy - it upset me to picture children at risk like that. The imaginatively designed waitress was a very fascinating character and I would like to see more of her. The other "view" of selling the speeder in ANH (loved!!! both the description of Luke as a "young noise" and Ben's ?We?re going to have to work on his persuasion skills.") was very interesting. And the Qui-Gon/Tahl scene, which while I am sure I still don't necessarily "get it" or all of "it", is still going to make me go listen but not watch a Liam Neeson film to see how deep the voice sounds taken alone. Because I think I have noticed before that his voice is not as deep as people (including me sometimes) seem to want to think. Although, I think up to now, if I thought about it, I thought he was deepening his voice for TPM as compared to say Gun Shy. I shall have to do a survey. Excellent excuse for listening (if not watching) several movies (with, coincidentally, several good-looking actors in them) to place Liam Neeson on the male voice spectrum.

I started working on a piece of my own for this challenge a few days ago. I will post it tonight I think. If I get brave enough.

And, either way, I thank Kit' for making me think about a character in an in-progress fic who was until then only there as a *gasp* plot device. He may not be so grateful, seeing as how he is blind now and wasn't before, but he's certainly much better fleshed out than he had been. In fact he's becoming rather interesting...

KD

 

Thanks for the comments, KD.