#5minuteexercise

Another 5 minute exercise.  I was not at home (I wrote this in a hostel in Berlin, Germany, today, August 8th, 2017), so I chose a public domain book and generated random numbers there.  The raw text (typos and all) follows the quote.

The following 7 words are from Charles Dickens’ “Bleak House”:

“that weight--in any metal--for the”

concept that metal had any value anymore.  It wasn't metal itself, that retained any value; but rather, things that were constructed and couldn't yet be replicated that retained a sort of instrinsic value.

False wood, for example, did not yet have the proper acoustic resonance for creating a musical instrument.  

Perfumes also didn't have the same stength; they were nearly identical, but again, it was useless to evaluate anything in terms of metal.  

Karen was a bit old-fashioned and still loved real gold.  You could tell her about how sythgold was the same, but she was adamant, that she could  tell the difference.  In that she was a small minority.  Simple elemental compounds were quite realistical duplicable.

The impact on the social order was not as great as feared; those who had control still manged to keep most of it, and use their position to actually maniuplate how the new order was emerging to advantage themselves, as they did innumerable times in the past. The dubplicator machine was nothing so much as an amplifier -- it amplified how someone was before they had access to it.  Someone who was greedy, used it to copy previous material things.  Those who cared about people, used it for creating medicines, and such.  It became a

ANALYSIS:

This is another writing exercise like the one posted a while ago.  I’ve decided this time to post it totally raw, as I typed it.  I might do a bit of cleanup later, but I think it might be interesting to see it raw.

Exercise 26th August 2015

From "People of the Earth", W. Michael Gear & Kathleen O'Neal Gear

ISBN 0-812-50742-8 page  316, line.7, words 1-7

“was a ripped and torn mass of”

cheese.  It appeared that the chef had not taken any care in the presentation, and so did not seem to matter to him if I gained my freedom.  My whole standing in court depended on the creations of my staff, yet Ellis made only the most cursory attempt to make the food presentable.

I couldn't really blame him too much, the stress was quite high; and he wouldn't be the one imprisioned if my staff did not deliver the goods to my captors.  They wanted entertainment, and I and my retinue were their diversion for the day.

"Your Grace, would it be possible that I attempt to produce a meal suitable for your august personage?"

She did not speak, but just looked bored on her throne.  After a few tense moments, finally she spoke.  "If you can do so, I'll let you go, but your chef will need to go back to school, at her expense."

I thought that somehow fitting.  Her Grace was capricious but she did have a sense of honor and ironic justice.

I decided to create a dessert, a pastry with a sweet, lemony filling.  I'd been taught how by my mentor when I was young -- htat a Lord or Lady must know as much as possible about the crafts in his or her keep.

It came out well enough.  I thiink her Grace was looking for

--- end of exercise -----

Not the best work, but it did have conflict and did drop the reader into the middle of it.  There were a few clear spelling errors, and a few inconsistencies. I wonder though how one could be honorable and capricious, though; that seems a bit contradictory.  Also, “my” (the POV character’s) chef changed gender from one paragraph to another.