Who am I writing about?

This past lesson that was assigned from the Institute of Children’s Literature was so much fun for me.  Mostly because it involved descriptive writing and dialogue which I love because it’s like oil painting, except you use words instead of paint.  I do tend to have trouble with some grammatical stuff but the critique I got back from my already published author and instructor was positive.  It just about gave me the boost of self-confidence I was looking for.  With each assignment I begin to to feel more and more confident about submitting one of my stories to a publisher.  My goal?  I want mothers across this nation to read my stories to their little ones at bedtime!  Just being honest there. 😉  It makes me feel good that I am finally pursuing a career that I actually will LOVE and LOVE working at.  Writing!!  What could be more wonderful?

The small dark-skinned girl caught my attention almost instantly.  Her skinny jeans and brown suede knee-high boots complimented her feminine blouse, which was tiered with ruffles.  Her long curly  hair fell a little below her shoulders and a few strands were twisted along the side, which then culminated just below her crown.  She had big brown eyes and a petite nose that scrunched as her mouth broke in to a vivacious smile.  the girl’s white teeth beamed.

Her black curls bounced as she  quickly scuffled through the kitchen and into the living room.  The girl plopped on the floor next to a box of toy cows, polar bears, turtles, and old matchbox cars.  She picked up a stuffed polar bear and snuggled it close to her face.  As she did this, her eyes closed and her cheeks once again lifted in a faint smile.  With the white furry bear still close to her face, she opened her eyes.  They seemed to fall upon the fair blonde toddler who bounced on a well-worn leather couch cushion.  She suddenly dropped the bear and skipped over to the couch.

She then sat next to the toddler.  The curly haired girl let out a seemingly joyous laugh.  When she bounced she kept her legs crossed beneath her.  The toddler watched and let out a chuckle.

“Alexandria!”  said a voice from inside the kitchen.  The woman appeared to be her mother by the way she addressed the girl.  Alexandria bounced one more time.

“No, let’s not do that again.”  Alexandria gave a slight frown.  Then as quickly as she had run into the room, she flitted back into the kitchen and climbed onto a black wooden chair that sat at the head of the kitchen table.  She picked up a purple crayon.  It was missing its paper covering.  Alexandria seemed to sit contentedly as she turned the pages of the coloring book found next to the box of Crayola crayons.

Again…LOVE writing.

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