Nina Brav

Writer, Blogger, Entrepreneur

How to "Parent Trap" Characters in a Story

I'm working on a new story for a big idea I'm building out. Here is a sneak peek!


Young Yasmine met Munir on the first day of spring. She remembered it because it was the day all of the water lilies bloomed, spreading their vibrant orange petals in a smile and emitting a citrus like fragrance. The whole seafaring town smelled of mandarin. Munir had been writing by Diagma, the old cliff peak named for a goddess Yasmine knew little about.

Yasmine watched him curiously. She had walked up cliff wearing a flowing gown, olive green like her eyes. Her long brown hair was windblown and her cheeks rosy against her golden hued skin. She kicked off her brown flats, let her bare feet touch the dusty ground, and made her way towards the stone table where Munir sat scribbling away. He didn’t notice her at first. He was consumed with the story in his head. He desperately needed concentration to put the words on paper before the inspiration that struck him escaped grasp, retreated over the cliff, and tumbled into the storming waters of the sea below.

Yasmine did not announce herself. There was something in Munir’s eyes that told her he was fixated, not to be disturbed. She examined his face. There was a radiance about him. Perhaps it was the stark contrast of his white blouse against brown skin. Or perhaps it was the pops of gold in his eyes that gave him a warm, sturdy look. One thing was quite certain that warm spring day. More certain than the air smelling of citrus or the promise of the ocean’s fierce pound against the rocky cliff was the fact that Yasmine was unwittingly in love with this unknown boy.

Lost in thought, Yasmine wandered over towards the cliff’s edge and sat cross-legged by a bed of flowers. Water lilies usually grew, as named, nearer to water. Yet here on the edge of the cliff was a small patch of orange lilies, shouting hello to the world for the first time this season. Yasmine smiled and hummed a gentle tune as she surveyed the delicate flowers.

The sound of Yasmine’s hum awakened Munir from his trance, and for the first time all afternoon he realized that he was not alone. She looked like a goddess, he thought, as he closed his notebook, eyes locked on the beauty in green humming to wind. Her hair moved with her song, gently swaying to her notes. Her lips were rose, and her eyes a golden green, like light emerald held to the sunlight. Munir knew nothing of this girl, not her name, not her family, not why she choose to hum on this wind blown day, but he did know, quite suddenly that he was, very much so, in love with her.