General Fiction posted January 2, 2010 |
Once upon a time I decided to write......
The Writer's Path
by Begin Again
"Once upon a time" was the beginning of my story. How many fabulous stories have started that way to the delight of so many readers?
Wait! Don't go! Darn it, I knew better but I couldn't resist the temptation.
Great! I just lost half of my readers. Four words and they clicked their mouse as if a cat was chasing it ... presto - they're gone.
Hmmm ... I wonder if some of them would have stayed if I wrote something like ...
Blood dripped from his fingers spattering the kitchen floor. The shadowy figure remained motionless, waiting, listening for her last gasp of breath.
I can see a few of you are sitting on the edge of your chairs, trembling in anticipation. Matter of fact, I can even see the drool trickling down one or two reader's faces. I don't need to mention any names. You know who you are, right?
You've got to be kidding me. Yeah, you! Who do you think you're fooling? I see you shaking your head like you couldn't be the least bit interested in the bloody gore. I read your last posting. You aren't fooling anyone. I slept with the lights on for three nights solid. My writing is child's play next to yours.
Wait, now look what you made me do. Margaret and Brooke are leaving. Of course, they would. I can't blame them. What would happen to their exquisite nature scenes if blood started splattering all over the place? Certainly wouldn't be tranquil and serene anymore. Next thing, we'd find police trampling through the lovely flower gardens and across the pristine beaches. In Margaret's place, Sherlock Holmes might even make an appearance. Not that she wouldn't like meeting the chap, but that pipe of his might give her a bit of the sniffles. I'm not going to be responsible for losing their beautiful poems or adding a different flavor to them.
Being around only six months, I could probably be considered one of the new guys. Well, guy, woman, person, whatever is politically correct, you get the point. I'd be boycotted faster than my fingers could type an explanation. You just don't mess with perfection.
Okay, blood and guts is out, so let's consider some other options. How's this ...
Trembling, I waited, listening to the old floorboards moaning as the footsteps came closer and closer. An icy chill replaced the sweltering heat and I could feel someone's breath against my face. I forced my paralyzed body to reach into the darkness, but I could feel nothing.
Does that beginning paragraph reach out and grab you? Ghosts and the supernatural always raise a hair or two on the reader's neck.
Who's yelling at me now? Is that you, Jada? What? You think you have the market cornered on the ghosts? Well, excuse me. Your ghosts were 1800 specimens. Mine are fresh and new. All right, don't get your thong twisted in a knot. However, you do know that poor Jake, who you willingly left standing in the wings, probably could help you with your predicament. You could just write Jess right out of the picture. You have that power, you know.
Is it too early in the morning for my humor? I can see clouds of steam rising from Johannesburg and I don't think anyone's sending smoke signals.
Speaking of steam, how about a story about sweaty bodies, wild calisthenics and breathless moaning? No, I'm not talking about exercise, so you jocks can back off. I mean something like this ...
He was taking me places my body had never known. He nibbled, kissed and let his tongue flick across my body, inch by inch, as he slowly drifted toward my pleasure spot.
Hey, that's my eardrum you just hammered. I could hear screaming and snarling around the world. Simultaneously, four messages popped up. Putting it politely, I can't exactly repeat what they had to say without giving this story a "mature" rating. However, I don't think "mature" is how they were reacting. Sure, I know Melissa, John, Lynn and Lola already corner the market on the hot and sweaty stuff, but isn't there room for all of us? Maybe not!
All the screaming gives me an idea though. I could start the story out with a good rant, something like Zee or DJ do. Every time I read their postings, I am impressed by how they rant without ever appearing delusional. They have something to say and they say it very well. Me, on the other hand, well, I'd probably sound like some stark raving mad lunatic. Tom would censor me and I'd be banned from the site. Truth be known, the lunatic part probably isn't too far from the truth. Why else would I sit for hours and hours staring at a computer screen, pulling my hair, hoping for inspiration from an imaginary muse?
Let's consider some other options, ones not so erratic. I could write another story about angels, but I was saving that idea for Donna's contest. I noticed she waited until I had written and posted my first story about angels before mentioning the contest. I thought that was a little underhanded, but she's my friend so I'll let it slide. She was kind and left me fifty-seven days to rack my brain for another angel story. She's aware it will probably take that long.
Fairytales and fantasies are always good reads. I could write about fire breathing dragons or mystical wolves. No, that won't work. Joy's already writing a blockbuster story about those creatures. Besides, my last effort with dragons conjured up an elderly green caterpillar who believed he was Puff the Magic Dragon. Imagination at its best. Who do I think I'm fooling?
The burly detective scraped last night's spaghetti sauce from his tie, slapped his latest conquest on her tight tush, and stepped out into the bright morning sunlight. If his hunch was right, his suspect was sipping coffee at the small cafe around the corner.
Okay, so Barbara is writing about the drug cartel and the CIA and Fred's got Branski's bloodhound nose tracking a suspected killer, that doesn't mean there isn't room for one more detective story. Oh, yeah, Suzie usually has one heck of a good story going, too, but that's in Australia. My guys walking the back streets of Podunk, Mid-America.
On second thought, this was supposed to have a little humor, huh? Guess I could write like Pink Panther or Inspector Gadget. Now that I think about it, those guys are probably copyrighted. Better move on while I can!
Now that Australia crossed my mind, maybe I could incorporate a story around one of Mel's hilarious poems. She gets a fair share of readership and everyone is crazy about her laughter. Switch a word here and there, and presto, I'd have a wild and wacky story. I wonder, is that considered plagiarism?
I'm not even going to consider Westerns. Charlie's got that market cornered. He's probably going to be published in a matter of weeks. Besides, I can't wrap my mind around a gunslinger killing someone with his belly shaking, leg slapping laughter. I have heard of people keeling over from laughter, but not in the middle of a gunfight. I better get out of Dodge! Fast!
Now Indy, she had the right idea about fun and silly. Her little leprechaun muse, Paddy, oops, I mean, Padriac, was full of the devil on New Year's Eve, demanding to be heard or else. He was so cute with his adorable accent and his wee ways and he clearly stole the competition. He is in it for the money so maybe I could bribe him, but Indy is my friend and she'd have to be looking for a new moose ... muse.
I give up. By the time I think of something, I'll have missed another contest deadline.
Ooops ... guess what? Bozroz's spaceship is nowhere to be seen and the contest is full. I've missed two contests in two days. 2010 is definitely going to be interesting!
By the way, if any of you out there have a storyline you're going to trash, feel free to send it my way. I need all the help I can get.
Wait! I just received one more post message. Hmmm! Someone suggested that since I keep missing the deadlines, I should host my own contest. Now isn't that a novel idea!
Once Upon A Time...... writing prompt entry
"Once upon a time" was the beginning of my story. How many fabulous stories have started that way to the delight of so many readers?
Wait! Don't go! Darn it, I knew better but I couldn't resist the temptation.
Great! I just lost half of my readers. Four words and they clicked their mouse as if a cat was chasing it ... presto - they're gone.
Hmmm ... I wonder if some of them would have stayed if I wrote something like ...
Blood dripped from his fingers spattering the kitchen floor. The shadowy figure remained motionless, waiting, listening for her last gasp of breath.
I can see a few of you are sitting on the edge of your chairs, trembling in anticipation. Matter of fact, I can even see the drool trickling down one or two reader's faces. I don't need to mention any names. You know who you are, right?
You've got to be kidding me. Yeah, you! Who do you think you're fooling? I see you shaking your head like you couldn't be the least bit interested in the bloody gore. I read your last posting. You aren't fooling anyone. I slept with the lights on for three nights solid. My writing is child's play next to yours.
Wait, now look what you made me do. Margaret and Brooke are leaving. Of course, they would. I can't blame them. What would happen to their exquisite nature scenes if blood started splattering all over the place? Certainly wouldn't be tranquil and serene anymore. Next thing, we'd find police trampling through the lovely flower gardens and across the pristine beaches. In Margaret's place, Sherlock Holmes might even make an appearance. Not that she wouldn't like meeting the chap, but that pipe of his might give her a bit of the sniffles. I'm not going to be responsible for losing their beautiful poems or adding a different flavor to them.
Being around only six months, I could probably be considered one of the new guys. Well, guy, woman, person, whatever is politically correct, you get the point. I'd be boycotted faster than my fingers could type an explanation. You just don't mess with perfection.
Okay, blood and guts is out, so let's consider some other options. How's this ...
Trembling, I waited, listening to the old floorboards moaning as the footsteps came closer and closer. An icy chill replaced the sweltering heat and I could feel someone's breath against my face. I forced my paralyzed body to reach into the darkness, but I could feel nothing.
Does that beginning paragraph reach out and grab you? Ghosts and the supernatural always raise a hair or two on the reader's neck.
Who's yelling at me now? Is that you, Jada? What? You think you have the market cornered on the ghosts? Well, excuse me. Your ghosts were 1800 specimens. Mine are fresh and new. All right, don't get your thong twisted in a knot. However, you do know that poor Jake, who you willingly left standing in the wings, probably could help you with your predicament. You could just write Jess right out of the picture. You have that power, you know.
Is it too early in the morning for my humor? I can see clouds of steam rising from Johannesburg and I don't think anyone's sending smoke signals.
Speaking of steam, how about a story about sweaty bodies, wild calisthenics and breathless moaning? No, I'm not talking about exercise, so you jocks can back off. I mean something like this ...
He was taking me places my body had never known. He nibbled, kissed and let his tongue flick across my body, inch by inch, as he slowly drifted toward my pleasure spot.
Hey, that's my eardrum you just hammered. I could hear screaming and snarling around the world. Simultaneously, four messages popped up. Putting it politely, I can't exactly repeat what they had to say without giving this story a "mature" rating. However, I don't think "mature" is how they were reacting. Sure, I know Melissa, John, Lynn and Lola already corner the market on the hot and sweaty stuff, but isn't there room for all of us? Maybe not!
All the screaming gives me an idea though. I could start the story out with a good rant, something like Zee or DJ do. Every time I read their postings, I am impressed by how they rant without ever appearing delusional. They have something to say and they say it very well. Me, on the other hand, well, I'd probably sound like some stark raving mad lunatic. Tom would censor me and I'd be banned from the site. Truth be known, the lunatic part probably isn't too far from the truth. Why else would I sit for hours and hours staring at a computer screen, pulling my hair, hoping for inspiration from an imaginary muse?
Let's consider some other options, ones not so erratic. I could write another story about angels, but I was saving that idea for Donna's contest. I noticed she waited until I had written and posted my first story about angels before mentioning the contest. I thought that was a little underhanded, but she's my friend so I'll let it slide. She was kind and left me fifty-seven days to rack my brain for another angel story. She's aware it will probably take that long.
Fairytales and fantasies are always good reads. I could write about fire breathing dragons or mystical wolves. No, that won't work. Joy's already writing a blockbuster story about those creatures. Besides, my last effort with dragons conjured up an elderly green caterpillar who believed he was Puff the Magic Dragon. Imagination at its best. Who do I think I'm fooling?
The burly detective scraped last night's spaghetti sauce from his tie, slapped his latest conquest on her tight tush, and stepped out into the bright morning sunlight. If his hunch was right, his suspect was sipping coffee at the small cafe around the corner.
Okay, so Barbara is writing about the drug cartel and the CIA and Fred's got Branski's bloodhound nose tracking a suspected killer, that doesn't mean there isn't room for one more detective story. Oh, yeah, Suzie usually has one heck of a good story going, too, but that's in Australia. My guys walking the back streets of Podunk, Mid-America.
On second thought, this was supposed to have a little humor, huh? Guess I could write like Pink Panther or Inspector Gadget. Now that I think about it, those guys are probably copyrighted. Better move on while I can!
Now that Australia crossed my mind, maybe I could incorporate a story around one of Mel's hilarious poems. She gets a fair share of readership and everyone is crazy about her laughter. Switch a word here and there, and presto, I'd have a wild and wacky story. I wonder, is that considered plagiarism?
I'm not even going to consider Westerns. Charlie's got that market cornered. He's probably going to be published in a matter of weeks. Besides, I can't wrap my mind around a gunslinger killing someone with his belly shaking, leg slapping laughter. I have heard of people keeling over from laughter, but not in the middle of a gunfight. I better get out of Dodge! Fast!
Now Indy, she had the right idea about fun and silly. Her little leprechaun muse, Paddy, oops, I mean, Padriac, was full of the devil on New Year's Eve, demanding to be heard or else. He was so cute with his adorable accent and his wee ways and he clearly stole the competition. He is in it for the money so maybe I could bribe him, but Indy is my friend and she'd have to be looking for a new moose ... muse.
I give up. By the time I think of something, I'll have missed another contest deadline.
Ooops ... guess what? Bozroz's spaceship is nowhere to be seen and the contest is full. I've missed two contests in two days. 2010 is definitely going to be interesting!
By the way, if any of you out there have a storyline you're going to trash, feel free to send it my way. I need all the help I can get.
Wait! I just received one more post message. Hmmm! Someone suggested that since I keep missing the deadlines, I should host my own contest. Now isn't that a novel idea!
Writing Prompt Please write a humorous or silly story using the prompt....Once upon a time. Minimum 700 words |
Recognized |
Please don't ask me where this insanity came from...The team of muses that moved in are bouncing off the walls.
Thank you for reading and I hope enjoying my silliness.
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. Thank you for reading and I hope enjoying my silliness.
Artwork by MoonWillow at FanArtReview.com
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