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."

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.

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.

Writing Prompt-and-Share #11

Time to get your rage on! Today's Prompt-and-Share On the theme of yesterday’s get-to-know-you post, have you or one of your characters vent, rant and rave about a pet peeve. Or describe a specific event involving your pet peeve. Either in your first person voice or in your character’s first person voice please. No more than 200 words for this piece please. (If you want a prompt with more leeway word-wise, check yesterday’s prompt)

My Submission: - It was a bright and sunny day as my good friend Ryan sat on my couch chatting to me as I stared out the window. We were discussing some random topic, exhausting the subject ad nauseum, when I noticed a man walking down the sidewalk.
I watched as he turned the corner, looked side to side and tossed a coke can on the green space lining a building. Anger welled up inside of me and escaped through a voice I did not recognize. “Pick that up” raged from my throat like a bear’s roar and carried out my window to the man’s ears. He looked around, he looked up. He walked back to his litter, probably 15 steps or so and picked up his can. He stopped and looked around again,and then carried on his way with his trash in his hand.
Did he think it was the voice of God speaking? Some random voice inside his head? Big Bother (or in this case, sister) watching? Regardless, I felt powerful, strong and just a little narcissistic. Maybe there is something to this assertive attitude everyone keeps talking about.

Tara Tyler's Party Blogfest

It's Tara Tyler Talks anniversary, and to celebrate she's having a party styled blog fest. We each have to bring a dish, and it's recipe.

Now I'm a girl who does not cook. I can dial take-out like nobody else, but I loathe cooking. That said, I actually CAN cook, and quite well at that. When it comes to potlucks, parties and cook-outs, my dishes have been known to be licked clean. My pulled pork (which I actually use beef for), my score bars and my southwest pasta salad are always big hits. So for Tara's party I'm gonna serve up the salad. I wish I had a picture to share... but alas, the recipe will have to do.

Southwest BBQ Pasta Salad

1/2 cup Rancher's dressing
3 tbsp Bullseye BBQ sauce
4 cups pasta (the recipe originally called for macaroni, but I prefer to use the small short tubed pasta, like Ditalini.)
1 can black beans rinsed
2 tomatoes chopped (optional, but if you use it, add tomatoes just prior to serving)
1 orange, red or yellow pepper (I always use red)finely chopped
4 green onions finely chopped, or shallots, or onions
*can add grilled chicken or chapped ham, but I do not.

Mix dressing and bbq sauce in large bowl
Add remaining ingredients and mix lightly
Refrigerate for a few hours (if you leave it over night, the tastes mingle better and become more potent.)
Toss again before serving

ENJOY!!!!

Happy Anniversary Tara Tyler Talks - I just HAVE to mention, Tara's blog is one of my favorites to visit regularly.

Writing Prompt-and-Share #10

Prompt-and-Share: It is Monday so it’s time to start the week off write, err I mean right. Get your muses ready for a nice long look into yourselves or your characters. I’ll go a little easier on you folks tomorrow, but for today we are looking for pieces that range between 300 and 600 words. That’s right, room to get detailed! Here’s the prompt, dig deep my friends.
You or your character has been betrayed. Write out a scene of the betrayal from the Point-Of-View of the betrayer.

My Submission:

I knock on her door, and he answers it. Her sisters murderer, sleeping on her couch and she doesn’t even know. I can’t tell her. I want to tell her. I can’t tell her. She’s so sad, she’s beautiful when she’s sad. She’s always beautiful. Why did she leave me? How did I get myself into this?

I walk past him and his girlfriend in the hallway and enter the living room where she’s standing. She sees the blood dripping from my arms. He won’t leave. He thinks I’m going to tell her. He won’t leave.

“Oh my God, Bob what happened?” she asks reaching for my clawed-up arms. Her soft fingers touch me and I cringe at my betrayal.

“The cats, they didn’t go willingly.” I tell her about bringing the animals from the farmhouse to the shelter. My babies, my companions, abandoned. Her eyes are full of concern, she touches me, she wants to heal me. Her fingers are so soft. I pull back, I don’t deserve her compassion.

I start to cry. I want to yell out that I’m not a monster. I want her to cradle my head in her chest and console me like she used to. I want her to be mine again. I’ve lost so much. So much.

She sees the tears and urges the kid to leave, she’s all about manners and it’s rude to stare at a grown man cry. He shoots a dirty look at both of us before he leaves with his girl. I look at her, hoping for a sign. She’s hardened to me a little and I don’t know why. She thinks I’m crying for the animals, she doesn’t know.

Her face softens and a lost look takes over, “where’s my sister?” she asks in the sweetest saddest voice. It’s then that I notice the deep dark circles under her eyes, the pain in her face, and the suffering pallor of her skin. A wave of nausea runs through me as the horror she must be suffering from the last 10 days of searching for her sister hits me. My legs weaken and I almost collapse.

The tears are falling freely now, I put out my hands, pleading with her to read my mind, to just know so I don’t have to say it. She’ll forgive me won’t she? How could she forgive me for burying her sister, and lying about it all this time? Because she’s Nina, she is love and trust personified. She’ll understand. She’ll help me. I didn’t kill her sister after all, I just did the clean-up. Her sister was a bitch, she was crazy, Nina will understand. She’ll take care of it, she always took care of everything. I love you Nina.

I try to speak, “Nina, please,” I beg. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Bob, I can’t help you right now. I’m at my wits end, I’m exhausted. I can’t console you, I can’t even console myself.” She said with anger.

It was like a smack of cold water hitting my face. In the 11 years we were together, she never showed anger. She’s never done this before. She’s never put herself or her feelings before mine. Is that why she left me in the first place, to learn to take care of herself before me? Well she’s learned something that’s for sure.

I straighten up and wipe away my tears. She looks ashamed and so tired.

“Okay, umm, okay, I gotta go,” I say and run for the door.