I have a friend, D’Lynn Smith, who will have a horror story published soon that’s written from a hammer’s point of view. Ever since she told our critique group about it, I’ve been intrigued. I keep toying with the idea of how a hammer would see the world, what it would think about, what it would sense.
This is also a timely topic because of the new series I’m writing. The protagonist is a misanthropic psychic who communicates with insects, animals and plants. In doing research for the first book, I’ve gotten lost in thick tomes — with tiny fonts — about how animals see and "think," about whether insects sense pain. Much of the information is highly technical and theoretical. Some of it makes for an excellent soporfic.
But readers don’t need that. They don’t want to be banged over the head with science lessons. Sure, flies taste with their feet. But what’s really important is the description of what they’re tasting and why it matters. My protag needs to explain these things naturally. She needs to convey in language what isn’t initially in words . . .
"Well," I says to myself, says I . . . "Why not use the collective creativity right here at the ‘Rati to expand my perceptions, to see how others might tackle a similar challenge?"
Why not, indeed?
So . . .
I’m inviting everyone — writers, wannabe writers and readers — to give it a shot.
1. Pick a tool, any tool.
2. Make sure it’s inanimate.
3. Write a small vignette (Less than 10 lines, please) from that tool’s POV.
Genre doesn’t matter today. Just have fun with it.
Here’s my first try:
I wanted her fingers on my keys, her moods to pierce my world. Sure and smooth . . . her happiness flowed into me. Hesitant and hard, she sorrowed. Oh, but when her fingers moved so quickly I could barely keep up — my u sticking, my w pausing for breath — the holy joy of it filled me with electric bliss.
Okay. Now it’s your turn.