A Few Imitations

Writing Sideways Imitation Exercise 

F. Scott Fitzgerald The Great Gatsby Passage:

And as I sat there, brooding on the old unknown world, I thought of Gatsby’s wonder when he first picked out the green light at the end of Daisy’s dock. He had come a long way to this blue lawn and his dream must have seemed so close that he could hardly fail to grasp it.

Breakdown:

And as (Pronoun) (Verb) (Place), (Verb-ing) (Preposition) (Article) (Adj) (adj) (N), (PN) (V) (Prep) (Possesive noun) (Adjective) (Time) (PN) (Adj) (V) (Prep) (Article) (Adj) (N) (prep) (article) (Place) (Prep) (Poss N) (N). (PN) (HV) (V) a (Adj) (N) (Prep) (Place) (adj) (N) and (PN) (N) (Modifier) (HV) (V-ed) (adj) (place) that (PN) (HV) (Adv) (V) (prep) (V) (PN).

Imitation:

And as she glanced over, smiling with a bright gleaming visage, she peered on Brooklyn’s morning, early it gently rose with a radiating sienna hue above the city across its edifices. She had seen a divine eclipse on Brooklyn’s concrete shore and her wonder seemed to burn so brightly that her firery inquisition over took it. 

Atwood Passage Imitation:

She was an Acrobat in Chains

She is waiting hesitant, expectant, anticipation

For then she appeared to have the boldest act

Impending freedom and unfathomable anxiety tangled about her

suddenly, like her racing heart, she sunk around a brass ceiling fan the actor which functioned as an executioner:

There in the room (sanctuary or prison) hanging but, in the hall, right outside what seemed to be an adolescent’s bedroom, an exhausted encouraging mom.

Outside the room there was an option, but inside it, a solitary grave. 

Hemingway Passage Imitation:

The sun bursted like popcorn splitting outside its shell which bounds out over the kettle.

A kernel which was scolded but its intricate center split through the heated seams.

Clouds clumped and shrouded around the auburn orb distantly along the horizon, glittering throughout the dew drops atop the cotton.

They performed a dance across the field in their radiant reflections.

The glimpse disappeared over beyond the plain upon the breath of the evening.

Then was the twilight, a starry stillness, blinks emerging from the pitch.

For darkness was the coach, a driver and a transient moonlit memory like a reaper across the lively field.

A nightly reminder beckoning beyond into the deep as daylight recessed.

It seemed the funeral before the rising morn.