Characterisations for @FutureLearn ... Fiction Writing ...

I have just commenced a FutureLearn, MOOC on writing fiction. My home work is to ...

Write a short character sketch – no more than 200 words – in which you concentrate on appearance and any particular mannerisms you noted.

For those who know me, I have written many text books amongst other styles, this is a little bit of a new land.

Warning, I have used some rude words.



Firstly lets try parody


With ears that could have been fashioned by toddlers experimenting with silly-putty. Fiddlesticks was no winner in good looks department. When you ask where to find Fiddlesticks, other elves, would giggle, gesture and then wiggle their clenched fists behind their own perfect pointy ears.

Ugly wasn't a word commonly used in our magical land, but somehow you could imagined that one of the midwife wizards became very pissed off with Fiddlesticks when he was born and started beating him around the head with their sticks.

When you are unfortunate enough to meet this creepy toad, the words from his mouth would render an enchantment in any listener. Quickly you would want to reach out and throttle Fiddlesticks, its hard work trying not to choke him. Many have tried.

You would have to know who Fiddlesticks is for this to be funny.



Now for something a little more pernicious …


Bob was probably one of my dullest encounters from a previous life; not a boring average kind of dull, a dullness that has a black hole’esque quality. Sucking all life and light, you would feel any personal happiness dispel after a few minutes with Bob.

The worse mistake you could make was to show interest in Bob. Suddenly you were Bob’s friend and like some horny puppy, he would spend the rest of the year slowly dry humping your leg.

Often found skulking around, other souls got smart and would shun Bob. Less billy-no-mates, more bob-fuck-off-go-away-asshole-zero-mates.



And hopefully subtle … based on a 30 second cafe observation


Insecure, the cafe customer seemed to want friendship. Chatting to the staff, it was difficult to determine their purpose. Well dressed, yet casual, but a bit too young to be sporting a tweed jacket.

The scene was urban intelligentsia, set in the old reclaimed railway yard. Somehow, this soul, did not seem to mix in either world. Their latte, nervously clutched, conversationally embarrassed, eyes flitting around the room.

Focussed on the handsome woman who looked after the music stand, he was struggling to find conversation, today was not going to be his lucky day.

I did see this soul today.











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