Writing practice: do an opening soliloquy from the perspective of the cat, in the style of Richard III
CAT
At birth I was the last, the runt, the frail,
Too quick removed
I hide amid the brush and feed on scraps
Discarded by the kennel, once my home
[no. let’s break this down. the first image is his being a breeched birth, as though he didn’t want to leave his mother’s nurture. just start with that, then keep redoing that one image using better metaphor]
My littermates all dove head first in life,
While I turned tail as to predict my lot.
[whatever, it’s a start even though it’s pretty bad. but now i have something to start with. keep working only on this one image, cutting, shaping, honing like a sculpture]
And I, most deep enwombed, the last to leave
[keep trying]