Welcome to the place where I rant, rave and discuss books, writing, the town of Cobourg Ontario and anything else that strikes my fancy.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Writing Prompt-and-Share #29


Prompt-and-Share Tuesday Torture! Nyah just kidding... A few weeks back, we discussed an extra sense, the sense of space. It was a fun a prompt - and today we are going to focus on another sense that doesn't fit into the typically "5 senses". The sense of Time.
In 400 words or less, take a character (or create one) into a scene that shows time. Year, time of day, hurried time, prolonged time... any "time" sense you choose to use.

Example: Moonlight rippled across the water as the children snuggled themselves into their sleeping bags, zipping up the sides to ensure security against the mosquitoes and other critters.

Okay not the best example, but you get the idea. Without "telling" we know it's night, or dark enough for moonlight. We know it's summer because of the mosquitoes. We know the scene likely takes place in the present or recent times because of the sleeping bag and zippers. Also the movement of time is slowed, there is no rushing here, children are wrapping themselves up for the night, which slows the pace.

Now it's your turn, show your "sense of time"

P.S. this idea originated from a lesson on senses in the Free online F2K writer's course. If interested, give it a look. I enjoyed it immensely.

Writing Prompt-and-Share #28


Prompt-and-Share Just another manic Monday... First off, I’d like all of you wonderful writers to grab some licorice and start whipping +Matt Hardy with them… or just encourage him to join in…whichever suits your fancy. Yesterday’s dialogue prompt was a BLAST! We will be continuing that theme on Sundays.
Last Monday I really screwed you all with a tough prompt. Sorry ‘bout that. A big shout out to +Nancy Cavanaugh who rocked this prompt, and was the only one other than myself who attempted it.
Since characterization seems to be such a hard angle for so many, we are gonna work on it a little more today. For those of you not worried about an MC, don’t fret, there is a twist.
Prompt: (500 words or less) You or you’re character witnesses a miracle… an honest to goodness, unexplainable in their time, miracle. Describe what you or your character experiences, while focusing on you or your character’s reaction. Not as hard as the prompt from last week, but still a toughie.
Good Luck! (point of view and tense is your choice)

Writing Prompt-and-Share #27


Prompt-and-Share Dialogue. I love reading dialogue, it’s my favorite part of a story, if done correctly. As many authors will attest to, if dialogue IS done correctly, no tags should be required. The character, the scene, the plot should all be visible through the speech text. So let’s give it a go.
This prompt was recommended by +Drew Nicholson
500 words or less, write in dialogue ONLY please.

Hints on dialogue for beginners:
1 – Dialogue is always done within quotation marks Example: “Hello there”
2 – Use single quotation marks when to enclose quotes within quotes Example “Helen said that she was an ‘unfit mother’ before she ran away”.
3 – Always start a new paragraph when a new person is speaking
Example:

“I despise you.”

“Yeah well, I hate you more!”

“No, I hate YOU more!”

Anyhow, you get the idea. GOOD LUCK!

Writing Prompt-and-Share #26

Prompt-and-Share Friday - This prompt comes from +Adam Boenig ! Have fun with it folks! I won't be posting a prompt tomorrow so feel free to take your time with this one. Limit 1500 words! That's right, when Adam says EPIC, we listen!
Take something you do every day; say, making breakfast or cleaning the house. Write a story about it in "epic adventure" style.


My Submission: I tried to kill two birds with one stone on this one. My attempt at the prompt AND an action scene…

Helen shut the door behind her, enclosing her into the white-washed room. She locked the door and rested her hands on the cold white marble surrounding the sink. She checked the mirror and smiled maniacally at her reflection. Like a madwoman she tilted her head back and forth, up and down and side to side, eyes focused on her smile.

After careful inspection, she reached for the cup beside the faucet with stealth and agility. She poured the contents into her hand, grabbing at her first weapon. She had eyed up the enemy long enough, it was time to attack. Pulling the string taught between her hands, she strangled out various forms of her enemy in short calculated strokes. Her weapon weakened and limp, she discarded it in the bin beside her.

Helen wiped the moisture from her upper lip and snarled at the basin. This was war. Slowly, silently, her hand reached for the bane of her enemy’s existence and squeezed a large dollop of foe-killing goo onto the bristles of death. Poised and ready, she winked in the mirror and attacked. Long hard thrushes, quick jabs and smoothly guided strokes caught her nemeses unaware.

There was no doubt in her mind she had won the battle. Her guard was down and her ego was up – a deadly combination for any warrior. Her enemy seized the moment of carelessness and struck her in the chest with a foamy bullet. She screamed in horror at the white splotch on her black sweater. Throwing her weapon, she spit in spite, ridding her battleground of all offensive tactics.

The arena was silent as she decided between moves. Should she tend to her wound or continue her massacre? With a nod at her reflection she had chosen. Drowning in poison would be her final attack. With one swig, she submerged the enemy territory with swooshes and waves. There was nowhere left to run, nowhere to hide. She had them exactly where she wanted them. One short grunt erupted from her chest as she tensed her muscles to spit out the remainder of the opposing army. She watched triumphantly as her microscopic foes twirled around before submitting to their fate and disappearing down the drain.

She removed her injured armor and flung it on the floor. She bared her teeth in the mirror. Smiling widely, she caught the glimpse of amusement and delight as she re-inspected the battleground – the coast was clear.

Helen unlocked the door, and stepped out of the arena, rejuvenated from victory. It was over, she was safe with only a minor loss to nag at her soul. She began to relax when a voice penetrated her inward cheers of delight. “Don’t forget to wash behind your ears dear”. Helen straightened her back and glared towards the door… a warrior’s work was never done.

Writing Prompt-and-Share #25

Prompt-and-Share: Word Prompt Thursday! Plot is of obvious importance to any story. Though stories can be very different, let’s focus on the basics. There needs to be a character in your story, at least one. It has to happen somewhere, so we need a setting. Finally we need a conflict and a resolution.
So from now on, Thursdays prompts are going to focus on a random word generated Prompt-and-Share centering on plot. That’s right folks, we are putting some rhyme and reason into this chaos of Prompt-and-Share madness! The rules will be a little more strict, please adhere to them, they are there for YOU to learn how to work your creativity within certain guidelines.

Remember:
#1 -At least one character
#2 – A conflict AND a resolution
#3 – Give us a setting
#4 – Your story must include the 3 random words chosen
#5 – No more than 250 words please
#6 – Have fun with it! Today’s random words thanks to http://watchout4snakes.com/creativitytools/RandomWord/RandomWordPlus.aspx

System
Specification
Gibberish


My submission:

Nina tried desperately to get Drew’s editing done quickly so he could make his deadline. She often forgot her purpose as the story swept her away to the unfamiliar universe he had created with an artist’s touch.

She sat on the edge of her chair, cramped from hours of work, anxious to get to the conclusion and discover where the tale would take her. The climax was building and the action fast-paced. Her mouth fell open as the screen went black. Then blue. A message appeared stating: System overload. Please reboot with manual’s specifications.

Nina blinked, then blinked again. She smacked her monitor. She kicked her tower. She screamed, thrashed her fists around in frustration and spouted gibberish. After her temper tantrum, she dropped her head into her hands and sobbed. She had let her friend down, and yes that was devastating, but thought was overshadowed by her personal pain of being left in the dark, the characters of the story hanging in peril.

The tears flowed freely washing away the residue that had accumulated on her keyboard since its last cleaning. One droplet landed on her mouse and there was a popping. She lifted her head from her hands and looked around. There was a fizzle and the mouse began to glow. The monitor lit up and the tower choked. She looked at the screen to see the story had returned. She lit a smoke, wiped her eyes and let Drew’s words take her back into his universe, where the heroes would save the day.

Thursday, September 15, 2011

Writing Prompt-and-Share #24


Prompt-and-Share It's Wednesday's First Sentence theme continuing on the Prompt-and-Share. We all know how important the first sentence is to any story, it grabs the reader and pulls them in. We've been taking the first sentence of famous novels and writing our own little stories with them. Today we are gonna steal from Neil Gaiman's "American Gods". It's gonna be a tough one as he uses a character's name in the first sentence, luckily the name can also be an object so-to-speak.
In 400 words or less, tell us a story that starts with "Shadow had done three years in prison."
Take it away folks!

Writing Prompt-and-Share #23


Prompt-and-Share Uhh... happy Monday? Hmm... that just doesn't sound right. Ok the Prompt-and-Share today is going to be a little plot driven and character driven. It's the beginning of a new week after all, let's start it off by putting some good use to our writing tool belt. Each of us, and our characters, have specific traits - either we're mean or nice, cruel or passionate, sarcastic or boring, happy or brooding - regardless of what traits stand out the most, we have these traits, and something (and sometimes a group of things) make us who we are.
Pick a specific trait you recognize in yourself or one of your characters and write the story of which particular event influenced that trait the most in you or your character. Tough one right? GOOD! 700 word limit - I want to see the conflict AND the resolution clearly in this story - even if the resolution is that nothing was resolved. POV and tense is your choice completely.
Good luck, I expect there to be some very interesting reading material conjured up from this one.

My Submission:
This character, though much older now, is from my novel:

Jessica sat quietly coloring pictures on the dinning room floor. Her cousin Remi and his buddies started hooting and hollering at the TV from the orange tweed couch in the living room. Somewhere inside her, she knew they’d forgotten she was there.

She crawled around the corner of the couch very quietly and peeked to see what all of the noise was about. Women, beautiful half-naked women. They strutted with grace and ease across the screen. Jessica was mesmerized.

“Look at those legs” one man panted.

“Those tits baby, it’s the tits! Look at ‘em bounce!” Another man exclaimed before he made a motor boat sound with his mouth.

More women, one after the other, displayed their beauty across the screen.

“It’s the heels boys, look at what they do to the calves, makes that ass just pop!”

“Yeah man, I’d pop that ass!” Laughter and friendly shoulder slaps ensued.

Jessica leaned a little bit more into view, she watched the men intently. Their sweaty red faces were all focused on the TV and they sat at the edge of their seats. She watched as Remi, who was the handsomest man she had ever seen, licked his lips and tapped his thumb rhythmically on his knee. How she wished that a boy would look at her that way.

The comments continued, their attention captivated by the vixens. She watched silently taking in every ounce of detail. The long thick hair, the long slim legs, the long stemmed heels… everything on these women were so long. She looked down at her own budding breasts and willed them to get bigger and fuller.

Jessica noticed the men didn’t get up for fresh beers. They didn’t get up to go to the bathroom. They didn’t get up at all. They just watched and laughed loudly whenever one of them would comment on the beauties swaying across the screen.

She sneaked away with care, climbed up the stairs and went into her aunt’s closet. She grabbed the highest heeled shoes she could find, which weren’t nearly as long as the ones the women on TV wore, and slid into them. They were roomy, but she felt instantly like a young woman of style. She hobbled over to the make-up opened on Aunt Nan’s dresser and began applying it. Jessica learned a lot that day, some things she couldn’t even put her finger on. Somewhere deep inside she knew, beautiful women were powerful women, and she wanted to be one.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Call for Submissions

Call for Submissions

Letter to my 10-Year-Old Self



There’s a reason that the term “Hindsight is 20/20” has become so popular, and this is the opportunity to prove it.

If you could write a letter to your 10-year-old self, what advice would you give? Which lessons do you wish you didn’t have to learn the hard way? What message do you feel would have made the greatest impact on your life?

We are asking that people look deep within and courageously write a letter to their 10-year-old selves (maximum 500 words). Submissions will be accumulated into a free e-book, any donations made will be sent to a literacy charity. We will accept anonymous pieces, your real name, or a pen name of your choosing.

Letters may be sent electronically to : lettersto10yearold@gmail.com

Or by post to: Letters to a child
251-B Division street
Cobourg Ontario
K9A 3P9

Monday, September 12, 2011

Writing Prompt-and-Share #22


Prompt-and-Share Happy Saturday! Ahh the weekend, YAY! Today's prompt is brought to us by +Ayoub Khote - He suggests: Your vampire / demon / super genius / whatever wakes up as just a normal human being.
Sounds intriguing n'est pas? 400 word limit - if you don't have a character who fits these dimensions, simply make one up! It can be as complex as a God waking up human or as simple as a writer-genius who loses his/her words.
Have fun with it! It is the weekend after all!

Writing Prompt-and-Share #21


Prompt-and-Share TGIF folks! Today's prompt is inspired by an idea from +Adam B. His suggestion, verbatim, is this: Take any short story or piece of a story you are working on, and rewrite it as though the characters are actually aware that is a story and you are writing it.
I'm going to open this up a little more and allow a piece to be written specifically for this prompt, though Adam's idea offers more of a challenge for you veterans. I'm also going to suggest that you may go back through the prompt-and-shares and do this to someone elses work. (That seems like a pretty daring and fun way to play this prompt, big kudos to anyone who manages that one) Word count no more than 500 please.
Already giddy to see where this goes!

My Submission:

Disclaimer: Please read my submission to yesterday's Prompt-and-Share to really get this. I've included it at the bottom of this post after today's submission.

Sergeant Hamstring? Really? What kind of frikkin name is that? She hates me, my damn Creator hates me. At least I get to yell at these little worms, so it’s not all bad. They may think standing out in the rain is an unnecessary abuse, but let them spend 3 years in a Vietnamese jungle and then we’ll talk about elemental insanity!

““Who here thinks they have the capability to withstand the forces of nature?” I could answer this one easily enough – not a one of these pansy-assed twerps could survive what I’ve survived. Shitheads. Let me see just one of them flinch, just one!

“The question is Sergeant, do you have the capability to withstand the forces of a woman?” Oh shit, not that one. One panty-raid, ONE and I’ll never live it down. I cringed internal and silently cursed My Creater as I approached the pipsqueak causing the issues.

“Back in line slug!” It was fun to yell at her. Exciting even, but did She have to make me spit? Women don’t take kindly to spitting. Wait! No wait! Woman Creator! She set me up! She won’t let me get away with this!

I cried out as my feet were swept out from under me. I arched my back as the pipsqueak’s knee dug into it, pain seething through my spine as she forced mud up my nose, in my mouth and my eyes, my poor eyes. Was there any hope, any mercy from Her at all?

Gasp! She’s giving me an opening. I can take the pipsqueak down! I lunged at her feet and flipped her on her ass. I was just beginning to think that maybe, just maybe My Creator didn’t hate me after all, until I saw the shoes, and realized she hated more than I could have ever imagined.

I sighed, curling into a ball against the onslaught, thinking once again, thus is the life of the perverted overly-assertive character.


Yesterday's Submission

“Who here thinks they have the capability to withstand the forces of nature?” Sergeant Hamstring barked at the row of young men and women before him. He walked up and down the human line, searching each face for any sign of movement. A nervous twitch, a smile, a blink even, could single out a soldier for his bullying.

“I do Sir,” a young woman shouted from behind him. He turned on his heels and quickly approached her, shoving his face into hers. It was a stare down. He concentrated on the drop of rain pooling on the tip of her nose. He as livid, it was a rhetorical question after all.

“The question is Sergeant, do you have the capability to withstand the forces of a woman?” She dared him. He thought of laughing at the little pipsqueak, but he had to be careful with the gentler sex what with all of these lawsuits going around.

“Back in line slug!” he yelled, purposely spitting in her face with the final word.

She swept his feet out from under him, kicked him in the throat and spun him onto his stomach. She rubbed his face in the muddy ground forcing dirt to enter all available cavities. He regained his breath, though not without effort and grabbed both of the pipsqueak’s legs out from under her. He was about to show her what a real man was made of when he noticed the amount of shoes surrounding them. Upon further inspection, he realized they were all womens shoes, and the men were still standing at attention in line.As the first boot-to-head was about to make contact, he felt overwhelming regret regarding the panty-raid the night before.

Writing Prompt-and-Share #20

Woohoo! 20th Prompt-and-Share!



Prompt-and-Share: Plot is of obvious importance to any story. Though stories can be very different, let’s focus on the basics. There needs to be a character in your story, at least one. It has to happen somewhere, so we need a setting. Finally we need a conflict and a resolution.
So from now on, Thursdays prompts are going to focus on a random word generated Prompt-and-Share centering on plot. That’s right folks, we are putting some rhyme and reason into this chaos of Prompt-and-Share madness! The rules will be a little more strict, please adhere to them, they are there for YOU to learn how to work your creativity within certain guidelines.

Remember:
#1 -At least one character
#2 – A conflict AND a resolution
#3 – Give us a setting
#4 – Your story must include the 3 random words chosen
#5 – No more than 250 words please
#6 – Have fun with it! Today’s random words thanks to http://watchout4snakes.com/creativitytools/RandomWord/RandomWordPlus.aspx
Rain
Capability
Searching


My Submission:

“Who here thinks they have the capability to withstand the forces of nature?” Sergeant Hamstring barked at the row of young men and women before him. He walked up and down the human line, searching each face for any sign of movement. A nervous twitch, a smile, a blink even, could single out a soldier for his bullying.

“I do Sir,” a young woman shouted from behind him. He turned on his heels and quickly approached her, shoving his face into hers. It was a stare down. He concentrated on the drop of rain pooling on the tip of her nose. He as livid, it was a rhetorical question after all.

“The question is Sergeant, do you have the capability to withstand the forces of a woman?” She dared him. He thought of laughing at the little pipsqueak, but he had to be careful with the gentler sex what with all of these lawsuits going around.

“Back in line slug!” he yelled, purposely spitting in her face with the final word.

She swept his feet out from under him, kicked him in the throat and spun him onto his stomach. She rubbed his face in the muddy ground forcing dirt to enter all available cavities. He regained his breath, though not without effort and grabbed both of the pipsqueak’s legs out from under her. He was about to show her what a real man was made of when he noticed the amount of shoes surrounding them. Upon further inspection, he realized they were all womens shoes, and the men were still standing at attention in line.As the first boot-to-head was about to make contact, he felt overwhelming regret regarding the panty-raid the night before.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Writing Prompt-and-Share #19


Happy Prompt-and-Share Wednesday! Remember how I mentioned a week or so ago that I was going to start putting a little order to the madness of Prompt-and-Share? Thursdays are going to be random word generated prompts focusing on plot - but Wednesday's are going to keep in stride with the First Sentence Theme.
We all know how important the first sentence is to any story, it grabs the reader and pulls them in. Last time we used the first sentence from "Pillars of the Earth" and we got some amazing entries.
This week we are going to use the first sentence from the first chapter of "Twilight". (Stifle your groans people, it was best-seller for a reason).
In 400 words or less, start your story with the sentence: My mother drove me to the airport with the windows rolled down.
Infect me with your diversity folks!

My Submission:

My mother drove me to the airport with the windows rolled down. I loved the way the wind played with my hair, even though it meant I’d have to deal with tangled masses before I exited the vehicle.

“Are you wearing clean underwear, dear?”

I sighed, shaking my head. “You know mom, I never really understood that question. I mean I get it, if I’m in an accident and my clothes are removed, I will be grateful that I was wearing clean underwear. But really, mom, has anyone ever said ‘no’ to that question?”

I felt my brow furrow and I began chewing on the side of my thumb nail. “Clean underwear,” I muttered into my hand while rolling my eyes and shaking my head at her absurdity.

Without warning the car lurched towards the shoulder. Gravel and dirt enveloped the vehicle with tiny tings and loud knocks. I screamed, holding on to the window frame as a cloud of dust smacked me in the face. My body flung forward against the restraint of my seat belt, and then flew back smashing my skull on the headrest with a thud. I was dirty, sweaty and so scared I almost peed in my clean underwear.

It took moments before I realized we had not been in an accident, mom had purposely pulled off the road and was now staring at a vacant spot on the windshield in front of her. Her jaw muscles crinkled under her skin. I was going to whine, bitch and moan, but there was something about her expression that stole the bratty words right from my mouth. I simply stared at my mother in the driver's seat, a woman I no longer recognized.

“Sophia. I asked you a question.” She stated through clenched teeth.

“Yes mother," I said hastily, "yes I’m wearing clean underwear.”

“Good then.” She put the car back in gear, checked her mirrors and merged back into traffic.

It took a few years in the Peace Corps and many experiences before I realized how much of an impact that day had on me. My mother needed her own way to say she loved me, she was scared for me, and it broke her heart to let me go. Regardless, from that day forward, I chose to go commando.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

Writing Prompt-and-Share #18

Happy Monday! err wait, Happy Tuesday!!!! School has started, people have returned to work after a long weekend, the summer vacation is over... An end and a new beginning all in one! This weekends entries into the Prompt-and-Share were a blast! Though as usual, my appetite for linguistics was not satiated. I wanted more more more! Which leads us to today's prompt..
Prompt-and-Share You or your character is at work, and some annoying customer, boss, or co-worker is being ridiculously demanding. How does you or your character deal with this little piggy crying MORE MORE MORE!??

Writing Prompt-and-Share #17

Prompt-and-Share It's the last day of the Fun Long Weekend of wacky writers on whimsy topics! We did Death, we did Vampires, we did Superheroes! But who could possibly be left? Well there is the literally Satan, Lucifer himself... but nyah... maybe another day. Let's check out his God! Yeah yeah you know who I'm talking about, wait what? You don't? Oh c'mon everyone knows of at least ONE God. So pick one, male or female or both-in-one! And here's the scene:
(1000 words or less please)
You or your character has just finished their morning urination, they

open the bathroom door to find GOD standing there... Take here from here folks.

Monday, September 5, 2011

Writing Prompt-and-Share #16

Prompt-and-Share Happy Sunday of the Long Weekend Writers! For the rest of the weekend we are going to expand on Friday's prompt. A weekend of supernatural adventures! Hey why not? It is the long weekend after all, so take a vacation from the mundane reality of this world and let your mind wander into an anything-but-natural world.
Today's prompt was inspired by +Ayoub Khote 's submission to Friday's Prompt-and-Share. In the same spirit as yesterday's visit with Death, today we are going to take ourselves or our characters into the realm of Vampires. (Shush your groans, I know for some of you it's been overdone).
But in a world where vampires don't exist (assuming so) what would you or your character do if you were to meet one? Is the vampire an evil looking beast, or the dreamy specimen of perfection found in an Anne Rice novel? Do they sparkle? (heh) More importantly, how would you or your character react to such an encounter? The field is wide open for your imagination on this one. Loathe vampires? Go ahead and belittle them. Love vampires? Make the skeptics amongst us believe. 1000 limit word count today, to allow you the opportunity to voice yourselves.
(P.S. +Ayoub Khote you still have to submit Sir :P )

My Submission:

“The world is a vampire”, I sang into the microphone as the words scrolled across the screen. There was nothing like spending a loud Sunday evening alone with guitar hero to feel like a star, and to let the worries of the week before and ahead drown away in the undertow of the music’s flow. I bopped around my living sneaking peaks at myself in the full length mirror, admiring the way my hips moved and cursing the lack of strength in my knees.

I attempted the moonwalk and backed into a wall. I was momentarily stunned. There was no wall behind me in the mirror’s reflection. I spun on the balls of my feet to find my vision filled with a blood-red solid surface. I inched my gaze upward from what appeared to be a silk shirt, and looked into the face of an angel. I gasped, my knees gave way to liquid form and I fell backwards. He caught me, with about as much effort as it would take a normal human being to catch one of those multicolored, blow-it-up-yourself beach-balls. He had me angled to see myself floating serenely in the mirror’s reflection. There were too many thoughts running through my brain to count. He answered most of them in three words.

“I am vampyre” he spoke in a strange accent.

Okay so I was wrong about the “face of an angel” thing. It happens, I’ve been wrong before. New questions plagued my mind, one of which he answered immediately.

“I will no hurt girl.” I immediately hoped I was the girl he was planning on “no hurting”. The Smashing Pumpkins were cut off with booing from the crowd, since I had failed miserably to finish the song. I looked at the TV, the floor, the mirror,the floor and then the mirror again, trying desperately to decide what to do next. No decision was necessary, before I knew what was happening, I was sitting in my blue lay-z-boy chair and he was squatting before me so we were at eye level.

“I need, uhh…” he waved his hands around as if he could catch the words he was looking for from thin air, “refuge”. His eyes pleaded, my heart ached.

I looked at him blankly

. “Sanctuary?”

I continued to look at him blankly.

He made a tsk noise with his mouth, and I got the feeling he wanted to punch himself in the head. Better him than me, I supposed.

He smacked his chest with an open hand and said “I not safe.”He then touched my chest in the same manner but lightly and said “Girl not safe.”

I feel, in my defense, I must point out I’m usually a witty woman, full of crazy puns and mind-altering conversation, but at that moment, I just continued to stare blankly at the handsome figure before me.

He stood up and it took a moment before I realized I was now staring at his crotch. I tore my eyes away from the view and looked up, way up, to watch his face.

“I, Luther, protect girl while dark." He pointed to the window. "You, girl, protect Luther while sunlight. Yes?”

What the hell was I suppose to say to that? I mean sure, I didn’t have any plans, but what was I going to do with a vampire? Why did I need protecting? Why did he need protecting? When did vampires become real? Why didn’t he want to eat me? Was I not good enough? Why did he pick me? How did he get in? What was I going to feed him? Where was…. As the questions plagued me I saw a flicker of doubt shimmer in his eyes and his shoulders sank a little.

I reached for the microphone that had fallen to the ground, handed it to him and asked hopefully, “Do you sing?”

Writing Prompt-and-Share #15

Prompt-and-Share Happy Saturday! Woot Woot long weekend! For the rest of the weekend we are going to expand on Friday's prompt. A weekend of supernatural adventures! Hey why not? It is the long weekend after all, so take a vacation from the mundane reality of this world and let your mind wander into an anything-but-natural world.
So today's prompt is inspired by +Drew Nicholson 's submission on Friday prompt. Here's the scenario: Death arrives to take you or one of your characters into the afterlife. Write out the scene that goes down between you or your character and death. 300 words or less.
P.S. +Drew Nicholson this does not give you an out - I want another submission from you!

My Submission: Dang I wish I had more room for this one, I could have gone on for pages! (I almost didn't post this on my blog site because it kinda sucks. I didn't have the space to convey all of the points I wanted to, but hey - even the crappy submissions deserve to be peaked at now and again)

"_Niiiiiinaaaa Pelletieeerr_ " an ominous voice woke me from my slumber.

"Who's there?" I fidgeted with my bedside lamp as the voice haunted the otherwise quiet room.

"_Niiiiiiinaaa Pelletieer_"

The switch on my lamp clicked on and the room illuminated. Standing before my bad was a black robed man holding a scythe. His hood hid the face that repeated my name.

"No, I'm Nina Pelletier, who are you?"

"_I ammmm deathhhhh_, come to take you" he paused to point a skeletal finger my way, "_awaaaaaaay_"

"Well it's about frikkin time" I said.

"Uhh... what?" he said, his voice sounding normal, if not a little deep.

I wore a t-shirt to bed, but figuring Death had likely seen it all, I flung off the covers and reached for a pair jeans that was thrown carelessly on a pile of laundry. "Is my sister with you? My dad?" I asked, while I zipped up my jeans and reached for my hair brush.

"You aren't going to argue with me? Bargain? Yell? Scream? Anything?" he sounded upset.

Normally I would have tried to console a stranger that I'd hurt in some way, but I was in a rush. "Look man, you've taken so many of the people I've loved and left me here behind to rot. I feel like I'm late for a party I wasn't even invited to. So, I'm sorry if I'm being a little short here, but can we hurry things along? I've got people to see."

Death's shoulders slumped as he bowed and shook his head back and forth in a slow rhythm.

"Is there going to be a lot of walking? Should I wear my sneakers or my heels? Probably sneakers right? Okay yeah, sneakers it is."

Friday, September 2, 2011

Writing Prompt-and-Share #14


Prompt-and-Share Happy Friday Folks! What a great week of submissions, thank you all for participating:)
Now it's time for some Funky Friday Fun. The rules are relaxed today, but let's try to stick by them as much as possible. I'll even be open with the word count, try to keep it under 500 words pretty please.
So here's the scenario - you or your character are stuck on a deserted highway with another person who has super powers (any power of your choice). Take it away folks! Have fun with it, go anywhere ya like!

My Submission: Including a MC from my WIP

Luc never had any use for children. This particular 9-year old walking with him on the deserted highway between Port Hope and Cobourg was no exception. Had he been alone, Luc could have made the trip in the flash of an eye, but he had heard a lot of blah blah blahing about how easily kids could be traumatized. He tried to ignore the game of running around in circles the little tyke had decided to play and focused on the long walk ahead of them.

The kid stopped running in circles and began jumping on his right foot in stride with him. “So what’s your power Luc?” He asked in a high pitched voice befitting a little girl.

“What makes you think I have any ‘powers’?”

“They wouldn’t have sent you to get me if you didn’t have powers too,” he said, as he switched to hopping on his left foot.

“Humph.”

The boy gave up on hopping all together, walked a few steps ahead of Luc and pretended to play swords with an invisible opponent. “Do you wanna know what I can do?” he asked.

Luc continued walking, cursing his new found babysitting duties under his breath. “Not unless it involves moving rapidly to our destination.”

“If I stand perfectly still and concentrate” he gasped for air, breathless from the imaginary sword play, “real hard, I can become my surroundings.Watch!”

The child stood still as death, he didn’t even appear to have a pulse. Luc ignored him and kept walking.

“WATCH!” the child cried out. “Luc you aren’t watching,” he whined and ran up to Luc tugging on his pale blue scarf. “Watch me Luc, watch me! Luc, watch me do my trick Luc, WATCH!"

“ALRIGHT!” Luc hollered and stopped dead in the middle of the road.

The child blinked twice, debating between tears and triumph. He skipped past a picnic table on side of the road and leaned against a lamppost. Luc watched as the previous stillness overcame the boy. Within moments, there was no distinguishing between where the boy had stood and the lamppost itself; they had become one.

Luc’s eyes widened and his jaw hung slightly ajar. Within moments the boy re-appeared with a huge smile spread across his innocent face. “Cool huh?” he asked.

Luc nodded.

“Wanna see what else I can do?” the boy asked with mischievous pride.

“Sure.” Luc muttered.

The boy ran over to the picnic table and laid on it as if his body had become a board. Luc waited, but nothing happened, the child just laid there stiff.

After a few moments, Luc asked, “What are you doing, child?”

“Duh!” he turned his head to look at Luc before resuming his position. “I’m planking of course.”

“Planking?”

“Yeah, it’s so cool!” he said, getting up from the table. “If you had a camera you could take a picture and we could post in on Flickr!”

“Flckr?”

The child sighed and shook his head. “You old people don’t know anything.” He walked a few steps ahead, leaving Luc to stare after him in wonder.

Thursday, September 1, 2011

Writing Prompt-and-Share #13


Prompt-and-Share: Plot is of obvious importance to any story. Though stories can be very different, let’s focus on the basics. There needs to be a character in your story, at least one. It has to happen somewhere, so we need a setting. Finally we need a conflict and a resolution.
So from now on, Thursday’s are going to focus on a random word generated Prompt-and-Share focusing on plot. That’s right folks, we are putting some rhyme and reason into this chaos of Prompt-and-Share madness! The rules will be a little more strict, please adhere to them, they are there for YOU to learn how to work your creativity within certain guidelines.

Remember:
#1 -At least one character
#2 – A conflict AND a resolution
#3 – Give us a setting
#4 – Your story must include the 3 random words chosen
#5 – No more than 250 words please
#6 – Have fun with it! Today’s random words thanks to http://watchout4snakes.com/creativitytools/RandomWord/RandomWordPlus.aspx
Elevator
Sixteen
Librarian

I'm stoked to see the diversity in the entries today.


My Submission: using the main character from my WIP:

Carrie gnawed on her thumbnail and bounced lightly on her heels waiting for the elevator to come to a stop. She needed answers, and beyond this cage laid her best chance of getting them. If experience had taught her anything, all questions could be answered with enough studying. So why not hers? There had to be something here on what happens to us when we die.

As the doors opened, the faint scent of mold and nostalgia slithered into her mind unlocking the memories of days spent with her father at their local library. She stepped onto the thin reddish carpet and headed to the section on death. She stacked every book on the topic with care, all sixteen of them, and balanced her way to one of the long oak tables with the green shaded lamps. Carrie had entered study-mode, and nothing was going to stop her from finding the answers she sought. She hadn’t considered the greatest nemesis to her quest: time.

Carrie gasped as the librarian disturbed her concentration by flicking the lights on and off to signal closing time. She glared at him before slamming her book shut and resting her head on the hard leather cover with a defeated sigh. Theories, so many theories swam through her mind, but as for answers, she had found none.

Writing Prompt-and-Share #12

Daily Prompt-and-Share Happy Hump Day! Today we are going to work on our writing skills. Everyone should already know about the 5 senses, I think we learned about them in kindergarten, but for writers, there are more senses to consider. Thanks to a wonderful writing course I took, I learned of some of these extra senses that need to be considered, one of them being the Sense of Space.
You want to bring your reader into your scene and feel what your characters are feeling, are they stuffed in a coffin? In the middle of field? Being bumped around the streets of New York during rush hour? How much SPACE does your character have, if any?
Bring us with you, or with one of your characters, into a scene that focuses on the sense of space. 250 words or less please. NOT IN THE FIRST PERSON TODAY PLEASE.
If you are new to the prompt and share, feel free to click here for rules, tips and tricks. http://writingofanovel.blogspot.com/2011/08/about-writing-prompt-and-share.html

My Submission:

Jessica was used to the sand on the beach being silky smooth. She expected the soft pristine desert of warm golden silk to be disturbed only by her footfalls. Today, the sugary sand bled with dark patches of cold bulging dirt. The tourists had arrived, disturbing her oasis.

She could not hear the serene rhythm of the waves beyond the squeals of children. As she looked around for a place to set down her towel, a volleyball hit her on the side of her calf. Scantily clad teenagers brushed past her, throwing her off balance for a moment. With a huff, she dropped her towel and bag haphazardly onto a square-foot of unused beach and headed straight for the water.

She bypassed elderly people in chairs and adults sunbathing. She squeezed her way through a myriad of children splashing in the water, and young women squealing complaints as they entered the cold lake inch by inch. Shaking her head, she dove into silence and kept on swimming. She swam until the cacophony behind her became white noise.

Far away from the hectic beachfront, Jessica began to tread water in slow relaxed movements. She looked out at the blue vastness before her, then with a sigh of contentment, she closed her eyes and gave into the silence and peaceful serenity of solitude.