MuggleMaybe

[mydearfoxy]

I only just discovered the writing prompts section and I LOVE it! I'll be using this thread to post my responses. Feel free to comment if you have any thoughts. 

 

Exercise:

The sandwich was mocking him and that was just the start of the bad day.

 

Genre: Realistic Fiction (OF)

Character: Julian, a 17 year old boy

Narration: Third Person - limited

 

Response:

The sandwich was mocking him and that was just the start of the bad day. Julian knew Grandma had prepared the sandwich - all three layers of it, salami and roast beef jammed between thick slices of bread - with only the best intentions.

 

Grandma and Grandpa met in 1932 at a dance marathon. Not one of the crazy ones that lasted for weeks at a time, but a little one at the dance hall in a town full of laid-off mine workers.  The prize was one hundred dollars, a substantial sum for Depression era farm country. Grandpa won the prize after dancing for 21 hours, the last six with Grandma. He spent the first five dollars on buying a hot dog for each of them, and exactly one month later they were married and he used the remaining money to buy their house in town.

 

Maybe Grandma forgot sometimes that, although she lived in the same house, the world outside was no longer that of the Great Depression. She certainly didn't understand that the starvation epidemic had flipped on its head, and that her grandson was in fact an example of quintessential 21st century waist measurements.

 

In point of fact, Julian was supposed to be on a diet. It did not, unsurprisingly, include hero sandwiches, no matter how lovingly made.

 

Next to the sandwich there was a neatly penned note.

 

Julian,

There is cereal for breakfast, and I have left you a sandwich for lunch. Please water the vegetable garden and take Rosie for a walk. I have my sewing circle this morning, a church luncheon, and volunteering at the library. I will be back around 3.

xoxo Grandma Marian

 

If the first bad thing was the sandwich, the second was the unavoidable fact that his grandmother had a more active social life at 84 than he did at 17.

 

Okay, so that was obviously OF and I have NO IDEA where it came from. I guess it's the start of something. Anyway, it's really fun having these exercises to jumpstart my muse. 

 

 

[WindingArrow]

Let's see if my internet will cooperate this time...

 

Renee! I'm so glad your found this little board and I am super excited to see more people finding this place useful! This month's first line was a random little humorous thought and what you did with it did not disappoint! Even with this small scene about a sandwich, I feel like I know a lot about Julian and his grandparents already. Plus, the scene was just really amusing and creative, showing the difference between today and the 1930's, that Julian is staring at a way-too-big sandwich while he's supposed to be on a diet and that last line was awesome.

 

I hope you get to use this for something because I'd like to know what sort of 17 year old has a less active social life than an 84 year old, lol. Yay for muse jumpstarting!

[mydearfoxy]

Hi Liz! Thanks for stopping by and reading my little story intro about Julian. I am actually pretty intrigued by him, so maybe someday I really will write more of his story. Who knows?

 

Now, for the new prompt-

 

Genre: Romance

Character: Alien

Archetype: “Redshirt”

Narration: First Person - Secondary Character

 

Situation (optional): Wartime

 

Respone:

"Paskil," barked the commander, "enter the coordinates for the rendezvous point!"

 

Paskil, caught off guard in the midst of fixing up her make up, wiped all 14 of her powdery fingers on her red shirt and did as instructed. The rendezvous point, at last! She'd been waiting for months to finally arrive. Not that she cared so very much about the work. Working as the Navigation Data Assistant for the Betastar Space Cruise company was a perfectly decent job. She didn't meant to complain.

 

However, this particular port of call held a special appeal. This time, she would get to see Oluuf. True, on their last visit he had not kissed her goodby. There simply hadn't been time. However, this time she felt sure he would finally realize the depths of his affections for her, and they could get married and live happily every after.

 

Out of nowhere, the ship lurched to the side. There was a loud grating sound, and Commander Gar's voice came over the intercom with more static that usual. "Code Orange. I repeat, Code Orange. The ship is under attack. Enemy ship on the port side. Engage defensive procedures immediately."

 

 

 

oh. I totally just realized this was supposed to be in first person. Also THIS ONE IS SO HARD OMG. I am not a person who writes aliens. So that was a lousy effort but goodness. I'll try for better next time? haha