Teachers Write 8/13/13 Tuesday Quick-Write with Erin Dealey

Guest author Erin Dealey wasn’t quite finished talking about VOICE in yesterday’s mini-lesson. Today, she joins us with a visual Quick-Write to follow up!

Here’s another exercise in Voice.

Choose one of the doors pictured below…

 

Imagine the world behind this door. Who is talking? Shhh…..tiptoe closer and put your ear to the surface. Take yourself to this place and eavesdrop–and write it down…

I can’t wait to read what you’ve HEARD!

Happy Writing!

And as always, feel free to share a few lines of what you wrote (what you heard behind that door!) in the comments today!

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7 Comments

  1. Posted August 13, 2013 at 8:51 pm | Permalink

    I’m feeling a little lonely today. Where is everyone? When I looked at these doors, I was reminded of a report I heard on NPR about Dominican nuns creating a CD. I went to the website and listened. http://www.npr.org/2013/08/13/211639502/life-as-prayer-the-singing-nuns-of-ann-arbor. I ordered a CD. I jotted words. Then I went through the large wooden doors with the lion head handles.

    A human voice
    yet angels singing
    “Love of Mary come to me.”
    I enter in this hidden life
    expose my voice to stones
    that echo,
    echo alleluia
    Together singing,
    forever singing,
    a gift to the world.

    • Posted August 19, 2013 at 6:14 pm | Permalink

      This is beautiful!
      (I was away helping my daughter set up her VERY FIRST classroom. We have another teacher in the family!)
      Erin

  2. andrea p
    Posted August 13, 2013 at 9:50 pm | Permalink

    Margaret, I love how you included a song (and the link). I wonder why no one opened any doors today? Busy getting ready for school, I’m guessing. I was looking forward to reading some when I logged back on tonight. Oh well…

    I eavesdropped next to door #2:
    “Baa… Baa… Neigh…”
    “Grandpa that little baby is cold! Look at him!”
    “Oh, I see him, Allison.”
    “Can I pick him up? He looks lost. Which one is his mommy?”
    “Be careful. There’s a big puddle.”
    “Baa. Baa.”
    “Grandpa. Grandpa.”
    The rickety ban door unlatches and creaks open along the rusty, metal track, opening into the sheep barn. One of the newborn lambs slipped through the slats, rolled down the hill, landed in the mud and is matted with hay. He bleats for his mother in the pen near the horses. He shivers in the brisk Spring air. If he doesn’t reunite soon, his mother will reject him.

    • Posted August 19, 2013 at 6:17 pm | Permalink

      I’m so hoping Allison and Grandpa helped reunite the poor baby lambs.

      And you’re right, Andrea–all of the TeacherWriters were out of the barn, getting ready for their own little lambs…

  3. Brian R
    Posted August 13, 2013 at 11:31 pm | Permalink

    You got it, Andrea: school, but I’m rallying with the evening crowd for a hasty draft about what’s talking behind door #2.

    “Closer,” the voice behind the door wheezed, “come closer… I can hear you there on the outside. And I see the shadows of your feet blocking the light that seeps under the door. You can help me get out. Can you hear me – my fingers scraping the other side of this rough wood? Please, I must get out. Just open the door. There is a lock, I know. Maybe you have brought the key? Or I’m sure there is a rock on the ground that you could use to smash the lock in two. Bash just below the hasp, that’s what I advise. So quiet, you are. What are you waiting for? Here I sit undeserving of such ill treatment, and still you do not act. Where is your heart? Save. Me.”

    • andrea p
      Posted August 15, 2013 at 8:30 am | Permalink

      Brian,
      Hopefully you see this..I was checking back to see more today. I have to tell you, grab be my shirt collar with both hands, and pulled it up to cover part of my mouth, I could feel the tension…the situation you described…oh my gosh! Goosebumps! Great job!

      Good luck with school!

    • Posted August 19, 2013 at 6:19 pm | Permalink

      Oh my goodness–goosebumps, indeed. What a great hook, Brian. Please don’t stop here. Let the rest of this story out–for all of us!
      Erin

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