novella 1 - What plot follows?

Singapore
May 22, 2007 1:31am CST
If I wrote a novel, one of the starting lines would be: "The rain laden clouds swirled slowly over the office towers. Grey, grey, grey. Droplets fall, in slow motion almost, down to the masses huddling under their black umbrellas. The sky was fish belly white, the buildings' exteriors an amorphous landscape of greyish steel. On the street, Dora stood, clasping her red umbrella tightly. She waited. He was ten minutes late. Should she start worrying? Ten minutes. That's not a long time. He might have been delayed because of the rain. Ten minutes is acceptable, she told herself. She would start to worry when it got to fifteen minutes. " Who is Dora waiting for? What is their relationship? Why is Dora waiting for him and how might the plot develop?
2 responses
@ahgong (10064)
• Singapore
22 May 07
well, this could lead to a variety of stories. what kind of genre are you looking at? Fantasy? Ghost? Adventure? Romance? there are a few ways to continue from her. One favorite style is to do flashbacks... start with one about how the appointment is made over the phone to come to that corner to meet this person she is waiting for. Keep the identity of the person a mystery and you have yourself the start of an interesting fantasy novel. The same flashback could also lead to one about mystery... you know, one where her past finally catches up with her. This flash back could also eventually lead to an adventure... you know, a lara croft kinda story where she is waiting for someone to deliver the next clue in her quest for some bigger treasure. So many alternatives, how to start? where to start? 8p
• Singapore
22 May 07
this is meant to be fun! so just guess - come up with a fun plot. can be any genre you want.
@ahgong (10064)
• Singapore
22 May 07
i don't understand... are you asking people to write one paragraph to continue the story? or are you soliciting for ideas to write a novel?
@ahgong (10064)
• Singapore
23 May 07
The rain laden clouds swirled slowly over the office towers. Grey, grey, grey. Droplets fall, in slow motion almost, down to the masses huddling under their black umbrellas. The sky was fish belly white, the buildings' exteriors an amorphous landscape of greyish steel. On the street Dora Stood, Clasping her red umbrella tightly. She waited. He was ten minutes late. Should she start worrying? Ten minutes. That's not a long time. He might have been delayed because of the rain. Ten minutes is acceptable, she told herself. She would start to worry when it got to fifteen minutes. Looking around her, people busy walking around, all with some hurried purposes, her mind starts to wonder. The day started with a beautiful sunshine coming thru the curtains on her bedroom window. She opened her eyes and squinted at the glare. Giving in to a big yawn and a lazy stretch, she realized she was not alone in the room. She looked at him and smiled. Gently brushing aside a stray hair from his face, she recalls the wonderful night of passion she had the night before. Suddenly her stomach growls. She craves for waffles. After another lazy stretch, she got up, wrap herself in a fuzzy bath robe, she made her way to the kitchen.