A few nights ago I was looking for a prompt, 'cuz I wanted to write something. I looked through many sites and pages of prompts and finally one caught my interest.
A girls vollyball goes missing on the way to an away game.
I was trying to just write an original story from the prompt, but from the way I started it may end up being a Supernatural fanfiction.
After spending hours on the internet looking for some writing prompts to strike my interest, I have accidentally thought up a starting sentence that sparks my imagination. And while I try to think up a way to continue where this one sentence leaves off, I have decided to share the sentence. Make of it what you will...
The breeze stung, pointing out each and every one of the cuts on his face and the exposed parts of his arms and legs.
Ta Ta For Now!
In a moment of tired desperation last night (this morning) I remember the word posted by 15minuteficlets on May 4, 2003. The first word they ever posted: Happy. I thought it over as I tried to get to sleep and before I knew it I had a whole story planned out. I had no choice but to turn on my lamp and write the whole thing out so that I wouldn't forget it. And that I did. I wrote an entire story at 2 in the morning on a school night (day, whatever). And apparently I'm a very "in character" writer at the early hours of the morning when I want nothing more than to sleep. Because I'm very proud of this story.
Title: That Devious Smirk
Author: Me
Fandom: Supernatural
Summary: Just the guys, bein' guys.
Author's notes: My story for 15minuteficlets' word #1: happy. It took more than fifteen minutes, but I've never been one for rules.
The rain pounded against the exterior of the car. The wipers 'swished' back and forth, working to keep the windshield clear.
“Where are we?” Sam groggily asked Dean, who briefly shifted his gaze from the road to the passenger seat. Because Sam had been sleeping the music was playing softer than Dean thought his music should ever be played. He itched to turn it up to a more 'reasonable' level, but instead kept his hands on the wheel.
“Just outside of Jackson.”
Sam looked out of his window and watched as signs for Jackson passed. The rain was falling faster now than it had been when he'd fallen asleep, and the wind had picked up. Sam and Dean had been traveling together for over three months and Sam figured he was becoming proficient at figuring out what the older man was thinking.
From the look on Dean's face Sam could ascertain that either they had a hunt, Dean was planning on going to a bar in Jackson, or he was planning something mischievous. Lightning flashed lighting up the inside of the car. Knowing Dean, Sam concluded that it was almost certain his brother would go to a bar, and he was probably planning something mischievous as well. Dean would have told him if they had a hunt.
Sam saw his brother's expression change to one of concentration as the condition of the roads worsened with the weather. Dean gave into the urge to turn up the music and let the familiar notes and lyrics keep him focused.
They passed a sign for a motel and Dean navigated the exits and puddle-riddled streets to the parking lot of the motel.
“I'll get our room.” Dean told Sam as he opened the door, comforted by the familiar squeak. Sam unfolded himself from the passenger seat and retrieved his bag from the trunk as Dean used one of his many identities to get them a room for the night.
*******
“Two beds and a bath.”
“Perfect.” Dean pulled out a Visa card under the name Alden Kinlaw and handed it to the manager.
“Room 6.” The manager had Dean sign the receipt then handed him the room key and his Visa card.
“Thanks.” He strode confidently out of the office, past his car, and Sam, and straight into their room, pausing only for a second to unlock the door.
Sam slammed the trunk and made his way to the door in time to hear the lock click.
“Funny.” He set down his bags and rapped on the door a few times. The only answer he got was the lights in the motel flicking on, the sound of the room's television and a satisfied sigh. “Come on, Dean, open up.”
The rain continued to fall steadily and Sam could feel the drops inching down his neck and back.
“Dean, you jerk!”
“Bitch.” Was the faint reply.
“Yeah, you're so hilarious.” He mumbled, pulling a lock pick set out of his bag.
Dean lie sprawled out comfortably on the bed, his back propped up against the headboard, legs stretched across the bed. He heard the clicking of Sam efficiently working through the lock and glanced at watch. Took him long enough to figure that one out.
Sam heard a final click as the lock gave way. He stowed the lock pick tools and opened the door. Dean was stretched out on the bed nearest the door. Sam tossed his bag to the floor at the end of the other bed.
“Having some trouble with the handle?” Dean asked innocently, grinning ear to ear. “I think it sticks.” Sam was dripping wet and Dean almost felt bad for locking him out...almost.
“Yeah. Whatever.” Sam went into the bathroom and closed the door.
Dean heard the water turn on and hopped off the bed. He slipped into his boots and slid on his leather jacket. He made his way out the door quietly and popped the truck, grabbing his bag from inside, and shutting it after.
He walked back through the rain to the door and heard the lock tumble as he grabbed the handle. He tried to turn it anyways and heard a laugh from inside.
“Are you having trouble with the handle? I think it sticks.” Sam echoed from somewhere in the room.
Dean heard the water in the bathroom start again.
Oh brother.
^*^*^*^*^
I've edited this so many times now that I'm finally ready to call it finished. Thanks to Lisa for helping me spell simple words like 'school', and to Ryan for keeping me in character. If you hadn't said anything about the opening I would have left it and said it was good. And it really wasn't. It was very out of character and brought down the rest of the piece.
I'm doing a creative writing group at my school. And I'll be posting all the works that come of it here. They're mostly short stories written from a prompt.
What if God had a telephone number?
"What a joke," I grumble to myself. I look to the slip of paper again and dial the number into my phone: 486-463-4373 (HVN-GOD-HERE). Raising the phone to my ear I listen as it rings...and rings. I shift and my sneakers squeak on the kitchen floor.
A deep voice greets my ears. "You've reached God. At the moment I'm working on a big problem in a small middle eastern country you've probably never heard of. Call back later or leave a message and I'll try to send you a sign in your lifespan--BEEP!"
I slammed the phone back into its cradle, hoping that I would wake up from this twisted dream.
No such luck.
I stood still in my kitchen looking between the phone and the piece of paper Liz had written the number.
I picked up the phone carefully, hoping I hadn't broken it, and speed dialed Liz.
"Hello." The voice was familiar.
"Hi Mrs. Morgan. This is Beth. Is Liz there?"
"Yes." I heard her call of "Liz!" through the phone.
Another line picked up and I thanked Mrs. Morgan for her time.
After the click of the first line disconnecting I started my rant. "How did you get that number? Who would set up a prank like that? When did..." I trailed off and took a deep breath.
"I get the number from an e-mail. I don't know who sent it. Why?"
"Did you call it?" I asked impatiently.
"No, I haven't had the time." She replied defensively.
"I got God's answering machine!"
"What?!"
"Yeah."
"Wow." Her voice was soft. It was weird, at least we agreed about that.
^*^*^*^*^
Write about a bimbo.
As soon as she walked in I knew. She was not like the rest of the girls here. I could tell by the way she walked that she was confident in herself. Her short shirt looked tight enough to cut off circulation.Her low riding jeans showed off the shape of her long legs. In the dark lighting of the club I could see how bright her emerald green eyes glowed. Her posture was self-assured as she sat down at the bar.
I couldn't hear her conversation with the bartender, but soon enough the bartender, all 5 ft. 4 of him, placed a pink drink with accompanying umbrella in front of her.
"Thank you." I heard her say, her voice high and her smile kind.
I decided it was time to make my move and pushed through the crowd of people to the bar. I slid gracefully into the barstool next to hers. I looked to the bartende, "I'll have a beer."
"I've never seen you in here before." I remarked to the beautiful woman.
"Yeah. This really isn't my scene."
"Oh yeah?" I probed, hoping for her to continue.
"I've been a model since I dropped out of high school. I want to be an actress. I was in the movie "Bob" you know? It was my big break."
"I loved that movie,"--I lie--"who were you?"
"Well I didn't really have a character. I was the one that screamed off-screen for the females."
"Really." I nodded. She was like a Barbie, mind and body. Perfect. A grin played on my face.
^*^*^*^*^
A girl carries one important thing with her, a pack of crayons. Why?
Her mother watched as she pulled on her shoes, slowly nut surely tying the laces. At six years old Amili was a bundle of energy.
"Come on, Am, we're going to be late."
"My name s'not Am, it's Amili!" She corrected her mother.
"Oh of course, I'm sorry. Here, put on you're coat. It's raining." She held out the coat so her daughter could quickly slip into it. Instead Amili pulled the rain slicker out of her mother's grasp and struggled into it on her own. "Good job. Let's go." She held the door open.
"Wait!" She darted down the hall and her mother barely heard the "I 'most forgot" that came down the hallway. A small crash came from Amili's bedroom quickly followed by a "I'm okay!!" Her came running back down the hall. A familiar box-shaped lump pushing against the fabroc of her pocket.
"Ready?"
"Yes, Mommy!"
"Let's go!" They left the house for the car and she hoped that someday her independant little girl would forget the one day she had forgotten to bring crayons with the coloring books.
^*^*^*^*^
That's it for writing. When I started writing the second one I didn't know where I was going with it, then halfway through I thought up the Barbie line and had to find a way to fit it in. By the end I was writing the female as ditzy as I could and the 'I' character as Dean Winchester of Supernatural. I think it works.
My next project for myself is to write some prompts using Skye Kittering and Drake Robbins as characters. I have some ideas for them, but I think putting them into timed prompt writing might help to make the solid characters.
The new season of Supernatural starts next Thursday, Sept. 28 at 9pm on The CW. I'm so excited!!!!!
Two guided writing things I did.
What color is the sky?
The sky is blue, except when it's stormy, then the sky is a dark, cloudy gray color. And when there's a rainbow the sky is filled with many colors: red, blue, green, orange, purple.
The sky is above us because it is. There's probably a scientific reason, but I don't know it. Who get's to decide what to name things? How did they get that job? Sky is a cool word. Could be a cool name. I have gone off into complete randomness. But I'll keep writing. Duck duck duck duck duck. There'a a story behind that.
My sister, my best friend and I made up hand motions to all the songs on Kelly Clarkson's CD "Breakaway". We were all in the back of a car at the time and kept hitting each other in the face. Kelly Clarkson!! There are multiple stories behind that one.
But the answer to life, the universe and everything is 42, which, coincidentally, is my best friend's parking spot number here at MTA. So, the is not blue. The sky is, in fact, 42.
^*^*^*^*^
Prompt: Start and finish a short story with a character walking through the woods.
Every morning I start the day with a walk, and have been doing so for at least a decade. Where I walk has always depended on where I live. When I lived in my small, dark apartment in New York my walks were around the block my building was in and to the small office where I worked. After that I lived in a small, upper class neighborhood in Schaumburg, Illinois. My walks were around the neighborhood and to the parks nearby. Now the place I call home is this cabin in the woods, and every morning I walk the paths: around my cabins, and the lake. It's quiet up here, far from the main road. Only the sounds of birds, squirrels and other animals break the silence. I don't get lonely though, with Maddie to walk with me. The perfect companion. She listens to me and never talks back. Always ready to walk with me in the morning. Our ritual walk through the woods.
I'm trying to write this thing for Driver's Ed and I keep getting distracted. I found a prompt I can answer really easily though.
What line in a song do you often "hear" in your head?
"We're soarin', flyin'. There's not a star in heaven that we can't reach. If we tryin'. Yeah, we're breakin' free. Oh, we're breakin' free."
And...
"You know the world can see us. in a way that's different than who we are. Creating space between us, 'til we're separate hearts."
Both are from the song "Breaking Free", which is from the Disney Channel Original Movie High School Musical. I absolutely love the movie and all the singing, but that song in particular. I hear it in my head all the time, and I dance to it randomly.
Just kidding with the short post. My sis wanted the good puter. I'm working on another Off-World Incident story (and by working I mean I've been ignoring it in the hopes that it will write itself, but I have now printed it out so that I can get back into writing). I found a prompt that will hopefully get me thinking and should take alot of time, which is good.
Write for 10 minutes using "I used to think..." as your starter.
#1: I used to think I could save the world. I thought that if I was doing the 'right' thing by being kind to others, and being respectful of other ideas and opinions, that I could help make the would a better place. I have since realized that the world is really messed up and even if I am kind to others and keep an open mind, the rest of the people living here aren't going to do the same thing. But I'll continue to try it my way. I'll make an effort to listen to everybody, even if I don't agree with them, and I'll keep my positive attitude. Maybe I can make one person's day better by giving them a compliment.
#2: I used to think drama was just for the movies. Then I started high school. I've heard all the stories, you know, the ones your family tell you about when they were in high school and how it was the worst years of their lives. I never believed that. At this point I still don't think high school is awful. It's just all the DRAMA. Girls, mad at their boyfriends. Boys, mad at their girlfriends. Friends, mad at other friends. Catfights in the cafeteria, the girls yelling obsenities at one another, even after the teachers have pulled them away from each other. All the drama. And no matter where you go there's more drama to be found. Students are mad at their teachers for a bad grade. Blaming subpar work on their job, their boss, their family, a sick relative, the cold their coming down with. Is there a place to find creative excuses that I just haven't found yet (probably). High school would be so much easier if we all did our homework, paid attention in class, and kept our negative opinions of other to ourselves. But it would be SOOOO boring. And that would be bad.
*^*^*^*
A piece of wisdom I would like to share: Having a good attitude may not solve all your problems, but it will annoy enough people to make it worth your while.
This is the first post of March. Woohoo!! A new month. I'd seen this prompt before and not wanted to do it, but tonight I think I'll give it a try.
Here's a 90 second drill: List items you can find in an airport. When the 90 seconds are up, write a story that includes all the words in your list. Set your story anywhere except near or in an airport.
LIST:
Moving walkways
Airplanes
Information desks
People meeting up with relatives/friends
Arrival/depature boards
Fast food restaurants
Clocks
Map
Sovenier shops/Gift shops
Luggage
STORY:
I can't even remember the last time I went to a baseball game with friends. I'm not sure who's playing tonight either, not that I care. I'm here meet up with my friends. We've al been so busy with college and jobs that we haven't had much time to spend with each other. This was Kara's way to get us all together again. All four of us: Kara, Lisa, Ali, and I, are all meeting here, we're going to see the game and then go and get dinner so we can talk.
This place is busy, I guess that makes sense. Alot of people really like baseball. I keep looking at the numerous clocks to check the time. I've counted 6 clocks just in this one lobby-like area. They must want people to be able to know how long they have to get food and stuff from indoor fast food places here. There are people all around me selling soveniers and programs. I keep having to move so that I don't get trampled. And they're are mothers and their children all over the place. Probably come to see their first games. All the parents have backpacks stuffed, most likely with entertain for their kids. They all look like they're moving in with luggage and the likes.
I bet this room is huge when it's empty, but right now it's crowded and bustling. People pushing everywhere. It's nearly impossible to get somewhere without knocking someone over. I wish I had a map. Maybe the people at the information kiosk, shouting out the length of time until the game, know where I could get a map around all these frenzied people. It would be safer and possibly faster if there were moving walkways in here. Those things are cool. All you have to do is stand on them. That way we would have to move around people, just wait our turn. I guess that would be hard too.
I peeked in the field to see if Kara, Lisa and Ali are in there and the scoreboard was lit up like an arrival/departure board. Last minute checks or something.
I spin when someone taps my shoulder to see Kara smiling at me.
"Hey!"
*the end*
In completely unrelated news...
The Mastercard 'Priceless' commercial with Richard Dean Anderson is now in the regular comercial rotation(at least where I am).
I will try to write more. I miss my blog when I don't post enough. And I still have that story about seeing a different reflection to finish.
I actually wanted to do some writing before I go to bed tonight, and while I work on my Version #2, so I found another prompt. I almost passed this one by, but I decided to go back to it. I like it. It makes you think.
Usually, envy is portrayed as a purely negative emotion. Do you believe it is possible to harness the power of envy as a positive motivator?
Yes I do. I think I use envy as a motivator to make myself a better person. I think a person can use envy to motivate themselves to do better or do something more interesting. Envy can be a negative emotion, but if used well and kept controlled it can easily be used as a tool. Envy pushes people to be better than others. How it is achieved is up to us. I figure I'll use envy as motivation to maintain good grades and push myself in the areas I wish to excel in.
*And another prompt because I feel like it and I didn't particularly like my answer to the first one.*
What cliche describes you?
If at first you don't succeed, try, try, try, try again. Most definitely. I'll try at something for hours until either I get it or I seriously need one of five things: food, drink, a bathroom stop, sleep, or chocolate. This applies to everything except homework/schoolwork. I don't really spend any of my home time on that. The cliche most describes me when I find something new that interests me or strikes my interest. I can spend days working on a project on my computer or hours cleaning my room, if I feel like it.
*Despite the time stamp on this I'm finishing it at about 2:45am. So, I guess I'm gonna get some sleep.*
This is one of two prompts that struck my interest today. I'll mostly likely do the second one tomorrow.
You wake up, go to the bathroom and look in the mirror. A different face stares back at you. Begin your story.
Version #1:
*This hooks onto the story before this starting with the line "the clock winked."*
It's interesting somedays when you look in the mirror you see just you. The same person you see every other morning. And some mornings you look in the mirror and see a face that's different in some way.
That's the kinda morning I'm having. I'm here standing in front of the mirror, and the face staring back at me is the same. The person behind the face is what's new today. It seems like every other day I see a child behind the face, or a teen. Today it's different. Today I see a young adult.
It's the morning of the first day of my senior year. I have some bags unnder my eyes, but it's not my fault I couldn't get to sleep last night. Despite the bags, I like this 'new' more mature face.
Of course, that doesn't mean I'm going to be completely mature at school. I need to have fun after all.
I think I can find a happy medium between maturity and not wasting what's left of my childhood.
*the end*
A second version is in progress. It's a Stargate SG-1 story inspired by this prompt.
I'm really getting into these prompts. I like to choose ones that strike me and get a story or idea going right when I see it. I don't like the ones with word limits (even though I don't really have to follow them). I like being able to write as much or as little as I like. And I don't really word count before I post.
Begin a story with the line, "The clock winked."
The clocked winked. Sounds like an odd thing to think, but at 3:27 in the morning it kinda works. Especially since I have to get up in less than three hours and be more than catatonic for my first day of senior year. Regardless of how weird it sounds, it's the best way to describe that phenomenon that occurs when you look at a digital clock just as the time flicks to the next minute.
So, what am I doing up at 3:27...well, 3:28 now, on the morning of my first day of senior year? Good question. I have no idea. I've been lying in bed since 10 p.m., when I decided I should call it a night. I'm nervous and excited, but I can usually sleep on the last night of summer break.
Maybe I slept too late this morning...afternoon, I am a teenager after all. Sleeping in late is a natural result of staying up until 4 in the morning yesterday working on my computer.
Have you ever had one of those nights where you're exhausted, but you can't get to sleep? You know, the night when you're lying in bed and you want nothing more than to get to sleep, but you can't so you just have to lie there and hope that sleep will take you eventually. And you get so frustrated that you're punching pillows and swearing because it's early morning and you're still just lying in your bed, under your blankets trying to turn your mind off and go to sleep. That's the kind of night I'm having. I'm all tucked in and my hair is brushed, as are my teeth, and I'm lying on my side staring at my digital alarm clock.
3:35.
I would get up and pack my backpack or set out my clothes, just to be doing something, but I'm all packed and ready for tomorrow...today. All I have to do is fall asleep so I can wake up. Sounds easier than it is really.
I've made a significant step in falling asleep. I've rolled onto my other side, so I can't see my clock, and closed my eyes.
Not working yet. Roll over again. All the way. Ouch. I should remember to take my cell phone out of my pocket every night because rolling over onto it is not a pleasant experience.
4:12. What? No way! The last time I checked it was A little after 3:30. That must mean I got *some* sleep, right? That is the logical conclusion, is it not? Let's see, how much sleep did I get? 35, 45, 55, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12. That's 37 minutes, I think. Great. I'm going to look awful tomorrow. Whoever decided that photo day should be the first day of the school year was nuts. I mean, it kinda makes sense because we all want to look nice on the first day of school and we do want our school IDs as soon as possible, but still, the first day of school? Ack.
How to read a clock at an early hour of the morning:
Step 1: Open eyes at least wide enough to see things clearly. Check, it's really dark in here. Wait! Maybe my eyes aren't open. Maybe they're closed, and that's why it's dark. Makes sense. This is a brilliant observation.
Step 2: Aim gaze at clock, watch, computer, or time-telling fixture of your choice. That doesn't really work when you haven't completed step 1 yet, but whatever.
Step 3: Read time-telling device of choice for the current time. That's nice. Again, not so helpful when the previous steps we're over looked, but that's okay...
BEEP!! BEEP!! BEEP!!
What the hell! Who's backing up a truck?! And why? Oh wait. That's my alarm clock. Not cool.
"The time is 6:02 and it's beautiful morning outside."
What they don't say is that they're inside and it's only beautiful out if you lived in a colder, darker place before moving here. Like a cave in Antarctica. It's cold outside and and there are leaves all over the place.
"Get up!"
"I am up!" Hey! My first intelligent words of the morning.
My Mom comes out into the living room all dressed and ready for work. She looks way more awake than I am.
"You were sleeping like a log this morning?" She tells me.
"What?"
"I was up at 5:30 getting ready. I could have moved a circus in outside your room and you wouldn't have noticed."
"I didn't get to sleep until after four." I yawn to prove it and pull myself out of bed. Now I'm really glad I have all my clothes and stuff laid out because I'm too tired to think.
"Well, have a good day at school."
"Thanks Mom. Have a good day at work."
I look over at my clock one last time before getting dressed, and the clock winks.
