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Wednesday, October 5, 2011

Writing Prompt-and-Share #36

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.

#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


Please don't be offended anyone - this was done all in good fun - and 250 words on the nose!

“Where are we?” Angus asked, as he looked around the motley assemblage in the room.

“Forget where,” Lynn answered taking in Roan’s attire. “My question is, when are we?”

“Indeed,” Bastian agreed, taking in his surroundings.

“Huh?” replied Richard, rubbing his head. He let out a feminine scream as he spotted Alex sitting in the corner. “A monster! A monster! Kill it! Kill it!” he reached for his sword but it was gone. All eyes were on him, rendering him quite uncomfortable. He took a moment to gain his bearings then tried to justify his outburst by stating, “It’s an animal! It could have diseases or parasites or… something…”

The group watched curiously as Alex moved his hands in a fluid and mesmerizing dance.

Richard approached one of the four white walls and smudged his finger in the strange black images before him. “What is this residue?” he asked, smudging the substance between his fingers.

“Ink,” Bastian replied. “Four walls, no doors, and ink. What _is_this place?” he wondered aloud knocking on the wall, testing its material structure.

“What sort of master sorcerer could concoct such a prison?” Mr. Appel marveled.

Bruce leaned casually against Alex, who grunted in disapproval“Maybe it’s like, you know man, like there’s writing, and ink and white stuff. Maybe we are like, in some sort book like shit. Or maybe, none of this is really happening, and that stuff I smoked last night was just primo-shit man. Yeah! That’s it man! Ummm…Anyone got any Doritos?”

(This piece involves a good chunk of the characters that are being developed through the Prompt-and-Share on G+, by different authors.)

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