| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Fanny Herself by Edna Ferber: "Mrs. Brandeis, I am honored to meet you."
"And I to meet you," replied the shopkeeper in the black
sateen apron.
"I have just had the pleasure of hearing your son play,"
began Schabelitz.
"Mr. Bauer called me out of my economics class at school,
Mother, and said that----"
"Theodore!" Theodore subsided.
"He is only a boy," went on Schabelitz, and put one hand on
Theodore's shoulder. "A very gifted boy. I hear hundreds.
Oh, how I suffer, sometimes, to listen to their devilish
Fanny Herself |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Before Adam by Jack London: persuade him to return. Later in the day, however, my
sister came down to the ground, and there and in
neighboring trees we romped and played all afternoon.
And then came trouble. She was my sister, but that did
not prevent her from treating me abominably, for she
had inherited all the viciousness of the Chatterer.
She turned upon me suddenly, in a petty rage, and
scratched me, tore my hair, and sank her sharp little
teeth deep into my forearm. I lost my temper. I did
not injure her, but it was undoubtedly the soundest
spanking she had received up to that time.
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The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from The Human Drift by Jack London: them and with what gusto do you relate them to your brother
skippers in the fellowhood of small-boat sailing!
A narrow, winding slough; a half tide, exposing mud surfaced with
gangrenous slime; the water itself filthy and discoloured by the
waste from the vats of a near-by tannery; the marsh grass on
either side mottled with all the shades of a decaying orchid; a
crazy, ramshackled, ancient wharf; and at the end of the wharf a
small, white-painted sloop. Nothing romantic about it. No hint
of adventure. A splendid pictorial argument against the alleged
joys of small-boat sailing. Possibly that is what Cloudesley and
I thought, that sombre, leaden morning as we turned out to cook
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