WRITING:

The city lights winked by me as I drove down the almost empty freeway. No place to go, nowhere to be. Just me and a million miles of road ahead. Oh, and the hundred thousand dollars I stole from my ex-fiance. The jerk. Yeah. The one with the big fancy car in the big fancy house on the big fancy beach. the one who stood me up at the alter to boink my money-hungry best friend, Dinah. His name is Derek. Derek Grayson III. Maybe I should start from the beginning.

I was born and raised in a small town on the outskirts of Maine. There weren't many kids to play with or much to do, so I spent the majority of my teenage years helping my dad fix cars at his shop.

[on notebook paper I found written by me, God only knows when...]

WRITING/PROMPT: A Note From the Past

[Prompt: Playing in the hallway one day, your kids accidentally bump into your grandfather clock, which has been in the family for years. As it smashes into the ground, you find a note hidden inside from your great grandfather, who died two months after you were born. Strangely enough, the note is addressed to you.]

“You’re never gonna catch me!” Bailey squealed as she raced out of the living room and into the long hall, her older sister, Taylor, only steps behind her. 

“Bring that back you little rodent!” Taylor fumed as she followed Bailey onto the wood floor, arms stretched in front of her in attempt to catch the thief. Her fingers had almost reached the corner of Bailey’s makeshift flying cape before the smaller one tripped over her own feet and tumbled. Taylor, unable to stop in time, echoed her sister’s movements and they both careened to a stop, sliding into the massive grandfather clock at the end of the corridor.

My heart leapt out of my chest when I heard the deafening crash.  I sped from the kitchen to where the girls were, praying to God that they were alright as I rounded the corner. All I could see was the tip of the clock pointing at me and two little pairs of legs sticking out of the gap. I froze for a millisecond, water dripping from the plastic dish gloves before fight-or-flight kicked in and I rushed over to them, lifting the heavy clock enough for them to escape from beneath. It landed all the way on the ground with a loud thud.

Two little sets of eyes stared at me, huge and waiting for me to unleash my wrath. When all I did was swoop them both into a giant hug and start checking each body part for damage, they couldn’t believe it. Satisfied that both were perfectly okay, I took a second look at the two and sighed. “I have not been that scared in a long, long time and right now, I am so thankful that neither of you was seriously hurt,” I said, turning back toward the clock, which has been in my family as long as I can remember.  “The clock, on the other hand, does not look so good.” My hands were still shaking as I looked down and realized I still hadn’t taken my gloves off. Something on the ground caught my eye as I peeled the plastic first from one hand and then the other. I bent over to pick up what looked like a piece of paper. It was folded and dusty and yellowed with time

“What is it, mommy?” Taylor asked. I almost jumped, having forgotten the girls were still there.

“I don’t know, sweetpea. Let’s have a look.”  I knew Brad would yell at me if I tried to stand it back up by myself, so I made my way back into the kitchen, leaving the clock in its downed position. The gloves made a smacking sound as I threw them on the counter and focused on the paper in my hand. Opened, it was the size of a half sheet, and on it was a note from my great grandfather.

  

Caroline, there are two of you. Don’t believe their lies, you need to find your sister.

PROMPT:

• You’re on your way to a perfectly ordinary day at work when suddenly a sign looms up before you that says “Road Closed.” You’re forced to take an unmarked detour down an unfamiliar road that seems unusually devoid of traffic. Is it an ordinary short cut, or is something more ominous going on? What awaits you around the next corner? Will the pavement suddenly and inexplicably end? Have you crossed into the proverbial twilight zone? 
• Create your own mythos– H.P. Lovecraft did it with Cthulhu and the elder gods, and others have done it since (like Alan Campbell and the mythos of Ulcis and Labyrinths that rises out of the novel “Scar Night” or the Faith of Yevon from Final Fantasy X.) Write the stories that tie the gods, goddesses and other aspects of divinity and faith together for an entire people, then make a series of short stories (or even just one, like a creation story) out of them, almost as if you were the chief historian or head theologian dedicated to the preservation of all knowledge associated with this interesting and unique faith.
• Go somewhere that there are people, but not too many people (like a coffee shop, a class room, an airport terminal, an airplane, a business meeting, etc.) and then imagine that you (and the people around you) are suddenly the only people left on Earth. How does the story unfold? Do you all survive? Does someone die? What happens to this last, tiny fragment of the human race? Are there, by some freak miracle, others in similar situations lost in distant corners of the globe?
•  Craft a speech. It could be a future politician’s rallying cry, the war plans of a freedom fighter operating out of the underground, or the lost words of some hero (or villain) from the past. Make it real, make it crisp, make it strong and full of power augmented by whatever emotion the “speaker” is trying to convey, whether it be anger, pride, or a solemn sadness.
• Write a story about a place that comes into existence only once every hundred years or on some other rare basis, presenting itself as mythical and meaningful whenever it appears. It could be a restaurant, an island, a bar, an outhouse, or anything else. The person (or people) that encounter it can be oblivious tourists totally unaware of the majesty of it all, someone actively hunting for this mythical place, or anything in between. Make the place unique, give it character, make it stand out.
• Write a story that incorporates ideas or things that seem fantastically outside the norm of reality (like trees of glass and crystal that live and grow, or men and women that exist in a state of pure plasma.) What is life like in this new reality? What is different? What is the same? Be creative, and feel free to let your mind go places it would normally fear to tread.
• Write a story (though it could take the form of a mock interview or anything else) where the main character (even if [especially if!] it’s the narrator) is clearly under the influence of some kind of drug. It could be a hallucinogen, sodium pentothal (truth serum), some illegal substance, or even just a heavy dose of something prescribed by a doctor, but get creative with it. Cast the light on its effects, how it feels to be under its influence, and describe what the character sees that’s different or isn’t there (if anything.)
• In contrast (or perhaps in comparison) write a story where the main character is at the mercy of some kind of multiple personality disorder. He/she could be like a collective of souls, the victim of a botched possession, a simple psychotic, or anything else you can think of. Get creative. 
• Write a story where a dark secret in a character’s past comes back to haunt them. It could be anything from the blatant closet skeleton of a murder to something much more subtle and much more on the direct, everyday, human level. Whatever it is, make it real enough (no matter how fantastic it is) that the reader really feels it, really understands the haunting nature of it.

[credit:] earlswynn.hubpages.com

PROMPT(s):

• A man who can see ghosts voluntarily checks himself into an institute. Little does he know, that institute has been closed for thirty years.
• A young girl has dreams of a dragon. In one of the dreams, the dragon says "you made me". The girl, so obsessed with the idea of dragons now, grows up to be some sort of genetic scientist that can actually create & hatch a baby dragon.
• A family of five is driving across the desert on their way to vacation in California. They get lost, then the car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. The cell phone is dead and the sun is setting. The kids are hot, tired, and hungry. Mom is scared and frazzled. Dad, a mid-level sales manager with no survival skills, is frustrated and angry. An animal howls in the distance.
• The only thing that Daniel ever wanted was to be a musician. He loved playing piano more than anything in the world. But after his mom and brother died in a car accident, Daniel’s dad insisted he become active in sports and drop the music. And being active wasn’t enough. He had to be captain of the team or suffer through endless jibes and insults that his father uttered through a beer-induced haze. Then, on his eighteenth birthday, a delivery man brings him a piano, and tells the boy that it’s from his father.
• The sky is laden with dark clouds and the land is buried under a blanket of pale, gray snow. The ground, the streams, and the lakes are frozen and the whole world is eerily quiet and still. It’s the perfect day for . . .
• You’re flying somewhere — anywhere — but when your plane lands, you and the other passengers quickly realize you didn’t reach your intended destination. In fact, you’ve arrived in a strange, wondrous (or terrible) world that you never knew existed.
• On the first day of school, two best friends discover a terrifying secret about one of their new teachers.
• It’s a great time of year for a garage sale. You can have one of your own or take a Saturday to tour all the sales in your neighborhood. Maybe you’ll find a unique treasure with special qualities.
• All the kids are looking forward to the winter break. There’s a school-sponsored ski trip, and one girl is aching to go so she can try snowboarding for the first time.
• There is a light drizzle. The skies are mostly cloudy but the sun is doing his best to show his face. A man and woman stand beside a car outside of a convenience store. They are arguing.
• After a twenty-year career as a successful, underground singer with a voice that gives audiences chills, a singer with no other skills or experience loses his or her voice.
• A young, professional dancer injures her knee and can never dance professionally again. She decides if she can’t move to the music, she’ll make it. Which instrument does she choose and why?
• Write a monologue in which your character summarizes his or her life story; be sure to write it in the character’s voice

[credit:] all of these prompts were gathered at www.writingforward.com

PROMPT(s): multiple prompts from 2010 v2

[credit:] ALL of these are also from writersdigest.com: promptfest 2010

The Wait is Over 


After a year’s wait, you finally strike—it’s yours. But once you get home, you discover that it’s nothing—nothing—like you thought it’d be.


*

Test Drive


You go on a test drive in a new car. With the dealership representative in the passenger seat, you pull to the side of the road, turn off the engine, and lock the doors. 
“There’s something I should tell you,” you say.


*

Plenty of Fish in the Digital Sea


You venture into the world of online dating. Browsing through profiles, you drop your coffee mug and it shatters on the ground—it can’t be.


*

Clash of the Characters


Create a scene using four characters: One based on yourself, one based on someone you personally know, one based on someone you heard about in the media, and one spawning strictly from the imagination. Make the media story the hook or reason they’re all together, and base the scene around that.


A Second Day of Valentines


It was Valentine’s Day. You took your date to a movie–only it wasn’t the Valentine’s Day epic you had imagined, and what happened in the seat in front of you only reinforced that.


A Suitor for the Suitcase


A man enters your subway car with a small suitcase. He places it under a seat and gets off at the next stop. You eye the “LEAVE NO PACKAGES UNATTENEDED” sign. Another man boards the train, picks up the suitcase, takes something out of it, and moves it down a seat. At the next stop, he leaves and a woman enters, takes something out of it, moves it down a seat and exits. And then another. Finally, it’s placed under your seat.


The Last Thing You Expected to See on the Menu


The waiter handed you a menu. Only what was written inside wasn’t merely a listing of food
.

*

The Chairman


Your father made the chair when he was a boy, and it’s gotten rickety. Preparing to finally throw it away, you flip it over to carry it to the trash, and notice a message etched in with a knife.


PROMPT(s): Multiple prompts from 2010

[credit:] ALL of these come from writersdigest.com: Promptfest 2010

The Tapping (courtesy of WD’s Scott Francis)


You are awakened in the middle of the night by a strange tapping noise coming from your attic. You decide to investigate, and after moving a few old boxes, you find what appears to be a telegraph receiver hidden in a small hole in the wall.


Breaking Down


A tire blows out as you’re in the car with someone on the verge of his or her own breakdown. Stuck in a small town, you’re about to do something you haven’t done in years.

Prompts, courtesy of bestselling author Dianna Love

Below are five opening lines for a scene. The first three are in third person, the fourth is in first person and the fifth can be either one. You can change the point of view from third to first or first to third. There are no names, so you pick the characters. Write the first scene that comes to mind. Don’t worry about being correct on anything—just write and have fun.  


He opened his eyes and slowly took in his surroundings, searching for one thing that looked familiar.



If she didn’t make the last ridge before the portal closed in the next 15 seconds, she’d end up losing her bounty and getting blood on her new solar boots.  


He appreciated having a choice, but generally he was given at least one option that allowed for a chance to walk away alive even if he had to sacrifice dignity.  
   

My mouth fell open in shock at the gangly man carrying a cardboard box, not believing he would dare to enter my real estate office again.   


A palomino horse trotted into the yard sans rider, daisies braided into the mane and a sword hanging from a leather loop on the saddle. 


Your Story Contest No. 22


Suffering from a mid-life crisis, a 50-year-old businessman quits his job and goes on a quest to “get the band back together.”
 —From The Writer’s Book of Matches by the staff of fresh boiled peanuts: a literary journal

Vacation From Vacation 


With your cell phone and souvenirs in hand, your torn map falls to the ground. 
“He wasn’t even supposed to be here,” you mutter. 
And just like that, you need a vacation from your vacation.


The Agreement (courtesy of WD Editor Jessica Strawser)


You consider the stranger’s odd request and decide to agree. What do you have to lose? And just like that, you’re not alone on your adventure.


Rising Sun (courtesy of Jessica Strawser)


A man in a business suit, briefcase handcuffed to his wrist, stands on a quiet beach watching the sunrise.


Why?

“Why did you cut it all off?”

She stares out the window.

“Why?”


Self-Help Surprise


A self-help guru makes you an offer you can’t refuse, no matter how much you’d like to.


Paparazzi 


You try to snap a discrete photo—but it just doesn’t work out that way.


Sunset


The sun is setting in dramatic hues of pink and tangerine, but nobody is watching it—they’re all staring at him, instead.


Strangers on a Train


You’re on a train and for some reason have missed your stop—which, as you soon discover with the stranger sitting next to you, is a blessing in disguise.

Holiday
Something comes down your chimney, but it’s not exactly Santa. In your bed, you stir as you hear footsteps.

Resolute
 

It’s Dec. 31, and you’re scrambling to make a resolution come true that you made last year. The sun is setting, and it’s time for action.

Your Story No. 24 


Parents look on in horror as a magician’s trick goes horribly awry during a child’s birthday party. —From The Writer’s Book of Matches by the staff of fresh boiled peanuts: a literary journal


Raising the Alarm
 

Yet again, you draw a breath, mumble an apology, and pull the fire alarm at the shopping mall.


*

Trapped in the Ice
 

Your car breaks down in the midst of a blizzard—and a critical cell phone call. Trudging through the snow, you discover something frozen in ice that will prove to be invaluable in the moments ahead.


*

Cellular Apologies 
 

A stranger asks to borrow your cell phone. You agree. She turns away and talks on it for a moment, then faces you once more. 
“I’m sorry,” she says, eyes red. “I’m so sorry.” 
Then, she runs away.

Your 15 Minutes
 

You’re watching a daytime talk show. A familiar face walks onto the stage, you drop what you’re holding and she utters your name on national television.


*

The Broadcast Boon

You’ve never done it before, but this time you call in to the radio station. You win something you didn’t anticipate—or want.

Prompt: Circle of Witches

A circle of tall boulders is comprised of witches who have been turned into stone. Tell the story of how they got there or of them coming back to life.

WRITING/PROMPT: The Hidden Room

[@Writersdigest.com - Weekly Writing Prompt: While preparing your garden at the beginning of spring, you find the blueprints for your house buried in the earth. When you pull it out and examine it, you find that there is a room in the blueprint that doesn’t exist in your house. Both disturbed and intrigued, you set off to find the missing room. Write what happens next.]   

     "The bags of mulch," my mother stated, looking intently at me as if I knew what she was talking about.
     "What?" I asked, confused as usual.
     "The bags of mulch aren't going to move themselves, Lucy." She sighed and stabbed the bag of red mulch with her shovel, pushing it in my direction. "Open one and start dragging it along the border I made."
     I only made it a step or two before she barked, "Wait!" I stopped, Mother-May-I style.
     "Put these on first," she threw a pair of cloth gloves at me, which I obediently slid over my hands.
     This was not how I wanted to spend my first free Saturday in months, spreading mulch and playing in the dirt. But if we were going to sell the house, it needed to be done. So I walked over to where she stood, grabbed the first plastic sack and began to unload its contents where she'd told me to. Seconds later, I heard a clank and my mother's poorly hidden stream of curse words. I looked over my shoulder to find her poking at the dirt with the metal shovel tip.
     "There's something here," she said.
     "It's probably just a root or something," I said, wiping the sweat from my forehead before it dripped into my eyes. God, I hated living in Florida. The humidity was unbearable.
     "Roots don't clank." She dug around some more until a round metal tin surfaced enough for us to get it the rest of the way out. It was a simple metal cylinder about the size of a paper towel roll, capped at one end, no marks, no...well, nothing.
     We looked at it like it was an alien life form. "What the hell is that thing?" I voiced the thought that was running through both our minds.
     "Hell if I know," she answered. "Let's open it and see?" The last was more of a question than anything. She finally looked at me instead of the container, basically asking my permission to open it.
     "Go for it. The worst it could do is chop off your hand," I shrugged my shoulders and giggled as she flung it to the ground.
     "Oh, sheesh, Ma, I was just kidding." I bent down and picked it up for myself, expecting it to be heavier than it was. Nothing happened when I popped it open. A monster didn't jump out at me, no mysterious smoke came pouring out the top, which from the look on my mom's face, is what she had expected to happen. I tipped it upside down and a rolled up paper came sliding out.

     “Who buries their blueprints in the front yard?” I asked, incredulous. Here I was, thinking we’d hit some big lottery winnings or something really interesting and all I got for my excitement was a sheet of paper with a blue sketch on it. Yippee.

     Without looking at it any further, I shoved the design back into the tube and smacked the top closed.  It’s too bad… there was a lot more to that old house than first glance.

PROMPT: A secret unleashed

In a drunken or drug-induced haze, a close friend admits something very dark to you. Do you keep the secret or is it something so horrific you can't even pretend to go along with it?

WRITE THIS STORY: a writing prompt

Choose two people who you know well and write a detailed character description of each one. Next, change their gender, name, and physical traits. Begin a story with both characters standing on the platform of a train station, waiting for a train.

credit: [poets&writers]

Begin a different story with both characters: trying to get the same bartenders attention at a local pub
Begin a different story with both characters: interviewing for the same job

WRITE THIS STORY: a writing prompt

There are two men sitting in the booth of a diner eating dinner together and talking. A woman sits outside in a parked car, watching them through the window. Who are they? What is their relationship to one another? What are the men discussing? What is the woman thinking? What does she do next? Write a story that opens with this scene and explores these questions.

credit: [poets&writers]

WRITE THIS STORY: a writing prompt

You walk into a dimly lit room at a party where you’ve arrived with a friend. The walls of the room are lined with reptile cages. Across the room you see someone you recognize, and when you turn to your friend he or she is gone. What happens next?

credit: [poets&writers]

WRITE THIS STORY: a writing prompt

Write a scene involving two characters. One of the characters knows that the other is keeping a secret from them and what that secret is but hasn't let on that they know. Have the two doing some mundane task where they don't actually have to keep direct eye to eye contact with each other and using their actions and dialogue express the tension between the two without actually having to discuss the secret.

credit: [poets&writers]

PROMPT:

I awoke to the sound of someone pounding on my door, and I shook my head as I looked through the corner of the curtains at the striking orange sky, guessing what time it was. It was then that I realized that wasn't sunrise - those were flames.

[credit:] jessica.elaine @ NaNoWriMo

PROMPT:

On a day that started like any other, your friends and family have started to treat you a bit strangely and you suspect that something is up. On a whim, you stay out a bit later then curfew. When you return your house is surrounded by police cars.

[credit:] Bryan Cohen

PROMPT: animals can talk?

You are taking your dog for a walk when he starts talking to you. In fact, all the animals in the world have just become extremely conscious and have begun talking to you. What's up with that?

[credit:] Bryan Cohen

PROMPT: One day to live

You have been given one day to live. Detail it from beginning to end.

[credit:] Bryan Cohen

PROMPT: suddenly a celebrity

A series of events has made you a target of the paparazzi and one of the world’s most sought after celebrities. How did this happen and how are you dealing?

[credit:] Bryan Cohen

PROMPT: alter your past

The opportunity arises to go back in time and alter one event. What event do you alter? Describe your encounter from the past and its consequences in the present.

[credit:] Bryan Cohen

PROMPT: dead relative at door

You answer your doorbell and you are surprised to see your grandfather standing in the doorway. Mostly because he’s dead. He says, “I have some important things to tell you.” Talk about your reaction and what happens next.

[credit:] Bryan Cohen