Like this, for instance:
“The intricacy of her soul intrigued her.She sat, the bank of the river rising and falling beneath her as if it were a living beast. Or was the just the beating of her heart?“Bitz!”She turned around.”
Five sentences. Beginning of a character novel, I think. But who is the character? What does she want? What is she dreaming about? I don't know either. But, for some reason, lines like this pull at my heart. I want to know more about her. And the only way to do that is to write about her.
I know I'm shrugging. And sighing. And saying to myself "This will probably go nowhere." Hmm. But it might be nice going nowhere for a little while.
. . .