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Description
Writing Exercise 11 - No Ideas, But In Things

     The purpose of this exercise is to write a short story using only physical details - no metaphysical or mental elements.  Pure physical perception.  It's too easy to get overly abstract in fiction, and therefore it's a useful exercise to restrict yourself only to concrete images at times.

     The small office on the fourth floor was lit with a dim, blue light coming through the drapes covering the window.  It was bright outside.  The dust on the surface of the desk in the corner was thick enough to see, and was not disturbed by the air rushing into the room as the door opened to admit a figure.
     The man who walked in was not old - his skin was smooth and his hair still had all its color.  But he walked with a stoop, slowly and ploddingly, and sat down with a sigh in the little office chair in front of the desk.  He stared for a few moments at the curtains, breathing and drumming his long slender fingers on the surface of the desk, then reached across it and picked up a book that was sitting at one corner.  It was hand-sewn with twine and bound with leather, and the pages crackled as he flipped through them, glancing at the page numbers until he reached page two-hundred seventy three.
     He opened the book all the way to that page and ran his eyes across the annotated diagrams in brown ink.  After about thirty seconds, he lifted his free hand and moved a finger along the line of words that read "...admittes of no Injuree, save by cold-wrought Steele, shaped in the full Light of the Moon."
     "God dammit."  He spoke the words quietly, without lifting his eyes from the page.  After a few more seconds, he gently closed the book and returned it to its former spot.  He then reached across the desk again, this time to a rotary phone on the opposite corner.  He lifted the receiver, placed it to his ear, and dialed with the other hand.

Description
Writing Exercise 11 - No Ideas, But In Things

     The purpose of this exercise is to write a short story using only physical details - no metaphysical or mental elements.  Pure physical perception.  It's too easy to get overly abstract in fiction, and therefore it's a useful exercise to restrict yourself only to concrete images at times.

     The small office on the fourth floor was lit with a dim, blue light coming through the drapes covering the window.  It was bright outside.  The dust on the surface of the desk in the corner was thick enough to see, and was not disturbed by the air rushing into the room as the door opened to admit a figure.
     The man who walked in was not old - his skin was smooth and his hair still had all its color.  But he walked with a stoop, slowly and ploddingly, and sat down with a sigh in the little office chair in front of the desk.  He stared for a few moments at the curtains, breathing and drumming his long slender fingers on the surface of the desk, then reached across it and picked up a book that was sitting at one corner.  It was hand-sewn with twine and bound with leather, and the pages crackled as he flipped through them, glancing at the page numbers until he reached page two-hundred seventy three.
     He opened the book all the way to that page and ran his eyes across the annotated diagrams in brown ink.  After about thirty seconds, he lifted his free hand and moved a finger along the line of words that read "...admittes of no Injuree, save by cold-wrought Steele, shaped in the full Light of the Moon."
     "God dammit."  He spoke the words quietly, without lifting his eyes from the page.  After a few more seconds, he gently closed the book and returned it to its former spot.  He then reached across the desk again, this time to a rotary phone on the opposite corner.  He lifted the receiver, placed it to his ear, and dialed with the other hand.