Here are some excerpts I wrote, following the writing styles of several master writers:
William Hemingway-
"He stood motionless in the cold, brisk air of midnight, his tears on his chin and from the night sky rain fell from the heavens. The stars were absent completely overhead; but below it was wet and he could feel the emptiness of his new life faltering like a fawn. There were headlights in view and in the distance he heard a cry from the window and a tear hit the ground, booming in this solemn night."
Barbara Kingsolver-
"I have had a fire inside me ever since I heard a guitar howl and serenade my ear beside the wall of my messy bedroom. It's true. I felt passion in my body. Seemingly ten thousand hands took a hold, over the monotony of peoples' lives that grasp them throughout the day and burrow inside one's body when they fall into slumber. I finally overcame the complacency and started my ascension, and I was caught up, but fully aware of my potential and I have not been the same since. So they said I learned to play the guitar."
William Faulkner-
"After the rain the girl laying in the grass of the park heard, speeding up her blood of her veins, a sound pulled by emotion and thrown by staggering logic of clearly true hearts, which in her resonating mind, reminded her of yellow and tattered letters thrown on impulse to the ground-her bedroom, perhaps- screamed to the back of her mind and placed itself with suave and perfected motion, like the lips of Emily."
Margaret Mitchell-
"He was meaningful, and she always knew it when held by his truthfulness as her selfish self was. In her heart were all too deeply the scars of her past, a vivid time of horendous indifference, and the pleasant ones of her brightly lit future. However, it was a hopeful heart, pure of composure, light of feather. Her soul was wonderous with a question of uncertainty, celebrated with a crooked, beautiful smile and a partially opened mouth."
