Rules for story segments posted here.

no graphic profanity
no explicit sex
keep disturbing gore to a minumum, animal abuse should not be included
subsequent story segments must remain within the genre the story was begun
Hero's must be hero's, though they can have faults
Warning: as with all things a human endevours to create, this may cause global warming

Resourses

We use Story Starter Online for our story starters.
Thessaurus and Dictionaries:

Friday, December 18, 2009

Alluring, Accursed

Creative writing exercise for December 18, 2009
Setting for your story: at an arcade

Starting phrase for your story: It could be said that she was

Four words you must include in your story:
Overgrown
Simpleton
Alluring
Swamp

It could be said she was a child born under an accursed star. A comet shot through the velvety midnight sky, scattering a glittering wake behind, the night she drew her first breath of summer air. A portend for sure disaster, certainly. But to look at her now, an alluring beauty whose smile instantly garnered love and adoration, one would never have accused her of the title: harbinger of accursed disaster.
Thom wasn't so sure as the swamp ooze slurped and popped whenever he tugged his booted foot from the musty, decaying area—an arcade of overgrown skelatal trees draped with with hanging moss. He'd been accused of being a simpleton and, after this mad wild hart chase, he might not argue the point. When she's come to him at the Harborsafe Inn with tales of rescue and damsels in need, he'd jumped right on the opportunity to shed his ho-hum chores and do something adventurous. And dare he say it? Heroic. He stared at Simara's back as she plowed ahead with her testing staff. Hard to feel heroic with sopping stockings and mud up to your knees. Ol' Barus had warned him against harrying off into the wilds with a stranger baring unverified tales. But then what did Ol' Barus know? He'd never stepped outside the boundaries of the city of Porten. Apparently, he knew more than Thom had given him credit for.
“Ok, tell me again why--” She cut him off with a sharp slash of her hand and a finger to her lips. She pointed and whispered, “there between—ahhh!”

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Brisk Breezes

Writing exercise for December 16, 2009
The rules are to use the following in the brief story:

Setting: In a lighthouse
Starting phrase for your story: Left to my own devices I probably would
Four words you must include in your story: Sunshine, Handcuffs,King-Size Bed, Orderly

Left to my own devices, I probably would....” The thought trailed off as she stared over the railing. It was probably a hundred foot drop to the ground, but then the cliff added another couple hundred to the ocean waves below that.

“What was that, Suse?” Susan looked up. Her companion, a bubbly blonde whose back was plastered to a wall of glass, looked a little distressed.

Susan turned around and rested against the lighthouse railing, letting the sunshine flood her face and warm her skin. “I was just saying that if I were left to my own devices I would probably still be sleeping in that big king-sized bed in our room. Can you believe the size of it?”

Missy flashed a brief smile and replied with white lips, “The room is too small for it.”

“But the view is fantastic.” Susan studied Missy for a moment. “You know, if it would make you feel better, I could just handcuff you to the railing. Then you could at least enjoy the view of the ocean.”

Missy held up a hand to ward off any attempt to act on the suggestion. “Um no. I am just fine. Well actually, we could leave, then I would be just fine.”

A brisk breeze whipped across the lighthouse platform suddenly snatching Susan's hat off her head. “Oh no!” She snatched after the hat, but it whisked its way down to the cliff head below. “Come on, Missy!” Susan didn't wait to see if her friend was following her or not. She raced to the door and skidded to a halt. An orderly line of sightseers moseyed their way onto the platform. Once the passage was clear, she clambered down the stairs and out onto the cliff.

“Which way did it go, Suse?”

Susan shielded her eyes from the noonday sun and scanned the air and ground below. She shook her head. “I don't know. Come on. The wind is blowing this way.” She took off along the cliff head, Missy close on her heels.

Tufts of grass peeked from between the pebbly shale. But no hat. “Missy, I don't see—Oh wait! There it is.” She took off again. A scrub of brush held the wayward garment tight in its skelital branches. She reached for it and came away with a man's hand instead. She glanced up startled and was glad to see it was still attached to a living breathing man....

Creative Beginnings

I began writing a ms (manuscript) for a romance in 2001. It took me almost 3 years to complete it. I did sub it to one whole publisher and it was rejected. I didn't resub because I know that the story needs work. I was glad to get it written and get my first rejection out of the way. Since then I've been working on a YA (young adult) fantasy for the last couple of years.

I am also ghost writing a book with my son who has dyslexia. My daughter broke the 100,000 word mark this week on her ms. I was very proud of her!

This particular blog is a creative writing exercise ground, a place to practice the art of word-craft.

Thanks for stopping by!
Darc