Archive for the ‘Exercises’ Category

Starting Rule: For this month’s Fractured Fiction, everyone was told to write one sentence then fold their page down before passing it to the next; how we normally do it. The twist for this month was that, since we met in a coffeehouse this time, everyone had to write about a “beverage” (drinking, making, somehow involving) in their first sentence.

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Fiction One

She gulped orange juice from its jug as Tony hovered over the stove scrambling eggs. My clumsy self just reared its ugly head as I am now one with my beverage, covered with drink and shame. Historically he knew that this was a mirror, he decided it would be best to avoid suspicion. For her sake he didn’t yell, though the urge to do so was almost overwhelming. The empty boat bumped against the wharf, turned a lazy circle and drifted away with the current.

Fiction Two

Miriam sat in the cool shade of the curve of the stairwell, sipping from a frosted highball glass that smoked slightly as she tilted it. A fierce wind scattered the pages of his sketchbook among the rose bushes. I am certain there is more to life than this blasted town and endless display of inadequacy. A deluge of impairment washed over her, momentarily and briefly she dodged a mental urge to run screaming. It had been a good day, despite everything, and he looked forward to what would come next.

Fiction Three

He sipped at his coffee, its bitter taste barely registering, as he stared out the window at the oncoming storm. All five children jumped into the pool at the same time, sending a wave of water washing under the cocktail tables. The roar of the waterfall growled in her ears while she desperately held her breath under water. Drawing from the moment, I decided it is beast to ignore those nearby and endure the quest at hand. Without delay, there were too many reasons for her not to finish there, and move down to the next place.

ModNote: This one seemed to have a general theme, water, which was interesting since none of our conversations during the meeting had led to it and there was no visible outside influence (like rain) to inspire it.

Fiction Four

Stewart sat upon the stool, the barley malt fogging his thoughts of worry. It was too cold, but he didn’t seem to care, his mind was elsewhere. The big, black dog lunged against the fence, fangs bared, his booming barks echoing off the walls. After cheerfully locking the door, he held up the silver key like a trophy before tossing it out the two-story’s window. How could life take such an interesting twist, yet bring me closer than ever to clarity.

Fiction Five

The sun begins to kiss the sky with its welcomed “good morning; my soul is lifted and my thirst is quenched as I sip on a cup of hot organic tea and enjoy this intimate rising. There were no words, she thought. Shaking her head, she stood from the table to follow her first instinct.
     ”It’s nothing serious,” he looked down at the floor to hide the disappointment in his eyes, “just a casual get-together.”
Sunlight winked across the mirrored lenses of the man’s glasses, blinding her. After a near devastating winter, the blueberries emerged victorious with their plump and sweet goodness.

ModNote: Reading this one during the meeting was funny. Story, story, story, blueberries…(tangent) SQUIRREL! hehe

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Participants (not in order): Smokie West, Laurel Mathis, Val M. Selvaggio, Karen Dillon, Ysa and Ana Maria Seaton.

Copyright Notice: All content remains the property of the individual authors and is not to be reproduced in whole or in part without the express written permission of the publisher.

At today’s meeting, I decided to do something a little different. Instead of pulling images from the file I had in my bag, for our Artfully Inspired exercise, I came up with something on the fly as a challenge that I plan to hit everyone with occasionally…just when you think I am not going to make you work. When given this challenge, sit down and write for one hour. No more, no less. You can edit later, for now just get it out.

Today’s challenge:

Antique Store

Yup. That’s it. Write for an hour and somehow involve an antique store. You can either be in it, around it, seen it first hand or in the news, on TV, you work there, you shop there, it burnt down in a fire, your grandparents owned it, you own it, etc…any approach.

When you are done, post your stories here below as a comment if you would like to participate.

Get ready. Get set. Go!

January’s meeting saw the beginning of one of our new exercises, Artfully Inspired. For February, each participant was given a photograph to inspire them and request to write flash fiction at the meeting for 45 minutes, though editorial may have been done after the meeting. This time, they were to write a story about what they felt was taking place in the photograph; unlike our January exercise, the participants were not involved in what was going on in the photograph.

This has been a fun exercise and I have been really impressed with everyone’s contributions. I hope that you enjoy them as much as I do! Thank you to all of of our participants. Please post your stories below as a comment.

Images: If you have the image and know how to post it you can. If you only have the title and artist’s name, please put it in [ ] brackets at the end of your post and I will insert the image into your post.

Disclaimer: All content remains the property of the individual author. Reproduction in whole or in part by digital or analog means is prohibited without the express written permission of Word Whimsy.

January’s meeting saw the beginning of one of our new exercises, Artfully Inspired. Each participant was given a painting to inspire them and request to write flash fiction at the meeting for 45 minutes, though editorial may have been done after the meeting. They were to write as though they were somehow involved in the painting, either as a participant or an existing character in the piece.

This has been a fun exercise and I have been really impressed with everyone’s contributions. I hope that you enjoy them as much as I do! Thank you to all of of our participants. Please post your stories below as a comment.

Images: If you have the image and know how to post it you can. If you only have the title and artist’s name, please put it in [ ] brackets at the end of your post and I will insert the image into your post.

Disclaimer: All content remains the property of the individual author. Reproduction in whole or in part by digital or analog means is prohibited without the express written permission of Word Whimsy.

Starting Rule: For this month’s Fractured Fiction, I wanted to see how well everyone collaborated together. Participants were told not to fold down the page as they had to read what was previously written and write the next sentence accordingly. Participants were also told that they could use the word “monstrosity” as an optional starting point.

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Fiction One

It was going to be a monstrosity of an undertaking, but she was well prepared and determined. She then had second thoughts. She pondered about the repercussions of her undone actions and her mind went blank. How could she have ever believed that such a daunting task could be accomplished on her own? Still, if she didn’t act soon, Edward would succumb to Cassandra’s seduction and then he’d be lost to her forever.
“Wait, you filthy brigand!” She stood in the doorway, Cassandra hissing at her when they were rudely interrupted.
“Too late baby!” Edward sneered.
“No, you’re the ones who’ve run out of time.” Miranda said quietly, and whipping out her canteen of holy water she reduced them both to ashes.

ModNote: Those few of us in the group who are fans of the Twilight series were probably laughing the hardest at this one.

Fiction Two

As everyone sat down to eat their lunch, a man jumped through the window. As the people gasped the man exclaimed, “I cannot find my pants.”
The wisest of the group pointed to the window frame and said, “There you daft nincompoop.”
“Actually, those are his pants,” the man said as another man jumped through the window.
“Well, it wouldn’t really matter at this point, would it?” The first man asked. He seemed preoccupied, his mind elsewhere.
“Yes, these are my pants, however the gun I procured is missing!”
“That’s not my concern, and give me those pants,” said the second man, “cause I feel a draft.”
Charlotte picked up the gun from where it had landed in her soup moments before and held it aloft, “Forget the pants gentlemen, have a seat.” Why not, they were already halfway to losing and I have the gun, she thought as she dealt their last hand of strip poker.

ModNote: Two points given for the use of “nincompoop” in a sentence and talk about a save…

Fiction Three

The swallows danced playfully in the summer sun. Their wings moved gracefully through the sky, kissing each breeze one motion at a time. Sallie observed their flight through the office window during her lunch.
“How free they are.” she thought. She heaved a heavy sigh as Dr. Mortimer barked at Sean over his desk.
“Dream’s do not finish classwork!” his voice blasting hot and sharp.
No, thought Sallie, but dreams have more power than you could ever imagine, you joyless old prune.
The moment ruined, Sallie decided to go back to her work, silently dreaming of her days in the Peace Corps. As she continued her work, she could not stop thinking about the birds and how she wished she too could take off and fly away.

Fiction Four

The world at large is full of monstrosities. This was Jane’s take on not just the world, but all those little dark crevices in between. What quiet, unforeseen demons lurked within the mind? Jane’s arm quivered from the chilled breeze entering the door. Stepping to close the open maw, she saw a blur just beyond the hedge. Alert as a cat, Jane stepped off the porch and picked up a rake. Quick as lightning he leapt, knocking her off balance and catapulting the rake into a nearby vat os something she’d push out of her conscious thought to freak out about later. Upset, she ran to the nearby tree, grabbed a squirrel, and threw it at him. He fell to the ground and began to laugh at the fact that what had been thrown was no ordinary object.

ModNote: My, my, Diggory does get around doesn’t he?

Fiction Five

She watched the kitchen clock wishing each excruciating minute would crawl by faster. Sipping her tea, the monstrosity of dishes awaited at the other end of the kitchen, the ticking of the clock ran together. The endless stream of sipping and ticking wore down her already devastated patience. She set her cup down onto its saucer with a bang and walked out onto the deck which jutted out over the steep face of the mountainside. Storm clouds were rolling in, he should have been back by now; anger tinged with hurt rose to the surface as she looked at the tear stained envelope. Then John ran down the hill screaming, “Honey I’ve returned!” but she did not seem thrilled. John ran with all his might trying to get home before the storm clouds grew closer and consumed him. As she began to turn back into the house, a bolt of lightning connected with John’s cheating heart, leaving her a tearless widow.

Fiction Six

Clement’s eyes widened in horror at the sight of monstrosity that stood snarling down the hallway. Fur and fang dripped visceral hunger; this day would be long. With a sigh, Clement hoisted his cross-bow and aimed the cruciform arrow tip at the creature’s chest. Poising to lunge, the creature pulled hard against the chains; the cold, hard steel groaning against its weight as the metal cut further into its hide. The creature then lunged himself at Clement, smashing him with his claw. Clement lurched backwards and let out a shriek as blood began to drip down his face and into his open mouth. The metallic taste caused his stomach to churn, then his mind began to race for his next course of action. He readied his crossbow once again and fired at point blank range into the attacking werewolf.

Fiction Seven

The monstrosity of fear consumed him entirely. From a strong, hearty man, within a month he had shrunk to a pale, nervous shadow. He knew it was out there, just biding its time, waiting, all the while unknowingly devouring its prey inside from his own fear. As he sat alone in the large room, the fear he had for so long was starting to eat at him from the inside.
“I can’t take this anymore,” he screamed as he threw his belongings into his bag and stormed out the door. His fear had finally won; his heart was cold and lifeless. He wandered the streets for hours, only finally settling down at midnight to grab a beer at Rusty’s Sports Bar.
“Rusty, I’m weak man. Give me a scotch.” He realized he shouldn’t. It would make him a terrible jerk later.

Fiction Eight

“We’ve got trouble” was the last thing Spike wanted to hear coming through his hidden earpiece. Spike cursed to himself, his wounds barely yet scars from his last run with Max. Then, they both realized what they had done. Everything flashed before Spike’s eyes and he fell to the ground. The shock from the realization knocked him to his core, his soul became a dank expanse of shame.
“Is it over?” Max asked, as he looked for signs of life by cautiously placing a finger to Spike’s neck.
“I’m okay you idiot!” he yelled. “Get the compress, that bastard nearly took my head off!” Max rifled for the gauze.
Max’s eyes grew wide as the tell-tale red dot made its way across the wall and down to Spike’s chest; he knew they were done.

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Participants (not in order): Shannon, Syntillie West, Smokie West, Laurel Mathis, Val M. Selvaggio, Jason Ketcham, Karen Dillon, and Ana Maria Seaton.

Copyright Notice: All content remains the property of the individual authors and is not to be reproduced in whole or in part without the express written permission of the publisher.

peaceful, philanderer, prophetic, nasty, resplendent
nail, proper, simple, onyx, simple
distance, credible, ensconced, saturate, legality
triumph, harrowing, billowy, valorous, exhibiting
pedestrian, hapless, eclectic, candor, pithy

superimposed, furtive, responsible, feverish, squirrel
artfully, saloon, escalate, rubble, variation
trembled, rebellious, camphor, illustrious, ample
minuscule, superlative, agnostic, buttery, savory
interception, Hippocratic, flatulence, piercing, inept
exquisite, banana, skull, sheep, inquisitive
remarkable, savant, antagonize, crucial, combustion

Ongoing Competitions

Glimmer Train’s Short Story Competition for New Writers
http://www.glimmertrain.com/shorawfornew2.html
From the site: The category will be open to submissions for one full month, from the first day through midnight (Pacific time) of the last day of the month. Results will be posted at www.glimmertrain.org.

* February. Results will be posted on April 30.
* May. Results will be posted on July 31.
* August. Results will be posted on October 30.
* November. Results will be posted on January 31.

Ongoing Challenges

Postcard Shorts
http://www.postcardshorts.com/index.html
From the site: Submit a short story, about 250 words long. As much as you could more or less fit on a postcard.

Want to add one?

Know of any ongoing, online writing competitions or creative writing challenges? Email us with the details and we will take a look at it and consider it for posting here on Word Whimsy!

Starting Rule: Use the third word in your collaborative word list. (underlined)

Fiction One

He sat at the red light, driveling into the phone to some nameless cohort. The sweet dirge struck him aptly, this drawing him closer to an edge of sleepless insanity. Madness, what is it that makes one mad. A late tea partner, an annoying girl, or perhaps a hat? It wasn’t like the evening they had spent at the Pallisades. Water lapped against the sides of the canoe as they glided across the lake. She crammed the urgent note into her purse to reside among three-year old receipts, gum wrappers, and long lost stamps.

Fiction Two

Daft reasoning created this path; perhaps continuing down it awhile will do me good. The twitching only continued for another few seconds as he watched the now still form thinking, I love ziplock. He turned the handle but it wouldn’t budge. The words fell like raindrops into the echoing silence. “Balloons Mitch?” she asked; her disappointed voice sounded hollow, like the chocolate bunny purchase he had forgotten. Knowing this, there was much conflict in her heart, and he would just sit and ignore the accusatory glances.

Fiction Three

Sally tripped over the terracotta pot to reveal a small golden key. She found it compelling to see him flailing his hands about, the behind him laying on the horn. Driftin is easy to do when within the confines of contemplation. Shadowy figures darted in and out, all the while encroaching; Raymond now ran as quick as he could, the devil’s minions quick as his heels. Screaming at the top of her lungs, an action that, in itself, was already startling as she rarely spoke above a whisper; she definitely has his full attention. He quickly jotted down the name and hurried out the down.

Fiction Four

The more she let it sink in, the more the idea spread, taking over all conscious thought like a virus. Brightly colored birds screeched and squabbled in the trees. A dance of swirling autumn leaves moving over the hilltop left her feeling nostalgic. Going outside now, the mailbox was about a mile; which was just right for her daily cardio. Doubting against better judgment, they paused longer enough to falter. He hit the puree button on the blender, to his amazement frogs don’t blend to green but brownish red; hmm.

Fiction Five

The morning dawned hot, hot enough to make mirage-shimmers on the asphalt. Staring at the antique clock allowed Jane to believe time passed at a much slower pace. Without delay, the ambulance pushed them off to the right, Amanda plugging her ears in the back seat. The dank smell off mold perforated the senses, awakened to the breath of decay. Little did he know they had secretly replaced his toothpaste with Preparation H, can you say soup drinker? It was all good though in the end; the dog had had its day and all was right with the world.

Fiction Six

She looked upon him with utter disdain, after all how could you trust someone so contrite. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now he wasn’t so sure. A dark-eyed woman looked out through the lacy iron lattice. She wore a purple feather topped with a silver bead on a thick cord around her neck. The truth was, Chappy, her dog, was plagued with respiratory issues and often kept him awake. Task completed, he retreated to home for rest; if only for a moment.

Participants (not in order): Val Selvaggio, Jason Ketcham, Logan Seaton, Ana Maria Seaton, Karen Dillon, Laurel Mathis.

Copyright Notice: All content remains the property of the individual authors and is not to be reproduced in whole or in part without the express written permission of the publisher.

Below is this month’s word list along with the names of the people to blame who contributed them. hehe There are 35 words total.

The Word List for January

Laurel – ribbon, denim, key, tackled, confetti
Karen – juice, thundercloud, asphalt, frond, linen
Val – driveling, misconstrued, interim, augury, compelling
Logan – dignity, slur, contrite, evasion, corruption
Ysa – petrified, jeans, scrumptious, hypnotized, pirouette
Jason – doubting, dirge, daft, drifting, dank
Ria – efficient, collaboration, virus, precipice, historical

Homework time!

All participants are asked to complete a final draft of their stories using the word list, as an experiment, and hand it in to me by our next meeting on February 27th.