Sometimes ideas come in the form of a single line. I had this one pop into my head today:' She left on the out breath of an Autumn day' And although I loved the line, it didn't really go anywhere in the time allowed.
But I got to thinking about style and voice and how writing is often expressed as finding your voice. I find that exciting (I know - I'm sad!) and then I realized that that way of writing that we writers are all searching for is like a unique tag that when we have it, it is next to impossible to change.
So this is what came up from that...
You can't escape your style.
It has wrought iron railings around your
house. Pulls you in with
sweet nothings in your ear;
evolved smash proof glass in
its elegant sash windows.
It suffers no deviants -
You make for the hills while
it eats its lunch -
Til a hunch brings it to your
side. And you're sipping
darjeeling at a flowered table cloth
and forcing down another
scone. But at least you're not alone.