Monthly Archives: June 2013

Story Writing Exercises 129: Friday 28th June

Here are your four story exercises for today. Time yourself for 15 minutes for each one, then either have a break or move on to the next one.

129 computer 805748You can do them in any order.

  1. Keywords: business, stores, fellow, fool, place
  2. Random: glad then sad
  3. Picture: what does this inspire?
  4. One-word prompt: edge

Have fun, and do paste your writing in the comment boxes below so we can see how you got on!

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Story Writing Exercises 128: Thursday 27th June

Here are your four story exercises for today. Time yourself for 15 minutes for each one, then either have a break or move on to the next one.

128 pocket watch 4764You can do them in any order.

  1. Keywords: leave, room, familiar, dust, once
  2. Random: never dreamed
  3. Picture: what does this inspire?
  4. Mixed bag: priest (character 1), school friend (ch.2), yellowing photograph (object), Melbourne (location), wise (trait), debate (dilemma)

Have fun, and do paste your writing in the comment boxes below so we can see how you got on!

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Story Writing Exercises 127: Wednesday 26th June

Here are your four story exercises for today. Time yourself for 15 minutes for each one, then either have a break or move on to the next one.

127 old lady 625903You can do them in any order.

  1. Keywords: call, out, coming, happy, rather
  2. Random: a long time ago
  3. Picture: what does this inspire?
  4. Sentence start: Everything changes

Have fun, and do paste your writing in the comment boxes below so we can see how you got on!

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Story Writing Exercises 126: Tuesday 25th June

Here are your four story exercises for today. Time yourself for 15 minutes for each one, then either have a break or move on to the next one.

126 Wimbledon 130954You can do them in any order.

  1. Keywords: bright, brown, brick, divine, little
  2. Random: brothers and sisters
  3. Picture: what does this inspire?
  4. Tuesday Title: Too grown up

Have fun, and do paste your writing in the comment boxes below so we can see how you got on!

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Story Writing Exercises 125: Monday 24th June

Here are your four story exercises for today. Time yourself for 15 minutes for each one, then either have a break or move on to the next one.

125 gold elephant 798357You can do them in any order.

  1. Keywords: curtain, tired, last, home, footsteps
  2. Random: clack and crunch
  3. Picture: what does this inspire?
  4. Monday Monologue: Your character is playing solitaire

Have fun, and do paste your writing in the comment boxes below so we can see how you got on!

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Short Story for Critique 015: Elenor Margaret Delaney by Heide Braley

Welcome to Morgen’s Online Short Story Writing Group and the fifteenth story on this blog. This 737-word piece is by Heide Braley.

Please do comment in the section below telling us what you liked about this story and, what if anything, the author could do to improve upon it. Thank you – it’s very much appreciated!

I do have some feedback but I’ve just included it (below the story) as links to the scans of my handwritten-notes so I can let others comment here without being influenced by me. 🙂

Elenor Margaret Delaney

Her friends called her Lenny, but her official name was Elenor Margaret Delaney. On the surface, she seemed like any other pretty teenager, living her life as it came, content with her friends and family. She was a great student in school, maintaining a strong B average over all her classes, an active contributor to the school newspaper, a player on the girls basketball team and well-liked by all. She never complained, her mother always said, but rather looked for solutions to conflicts in her life.

But she was fifteen, just fifteen when she died. She had no time to invent anything or write a hit song, write a famous novel, or become a special advocate for children’s rights or any such thing. It seems as though young Lenny died short of missing the mark, her short life wasted and cut short before her promising career had even started. Her classmates will grieve and then after a year or two will go on with their lives, barely remembering her as “that girl who died” in their high school. Some of her teachers might immortalize her as one of their best students in their graduation speeches, but her name will probably slip out of the public eye within just a year or two.

Was her life a waste? Did she have to be the one who died? According to the law of averages, she was a good girl and didn’t deserve to die – she was living by all the right rules. The night of her death was pretty common, a few teenagers hanging out at a friend’s house swimming in the above-ground pool and just having fun on the warm summer evening. They weren’t drinking or being obnoxious. The injury happened purely accidentally when Lenny dove into the pool and cracked her neck, leaving her paralyzed and unable to surface for air. It was no child’s fault that they didn’t notice her absence until it was too late and she was gone. Her sweet life was over before it even got started. Or was it?

Her parents, John and Mary-Jane Delaney were high school sweethearts that met at the age of fifteen in the small town of Blackstone, Idaho. Elenor was their first child, born when they were both just seventeen years old but they stubbornly determined to live a happy life together in spite of the warnings from their relatives. Little Lenny was the joy of their lives and she quickly became the focus of their home and the homes of her grandparents. She was a smiler and ready to hug any stranger that came her way. No pills could have given her parents the thrill and joy of living with such a happy child. Although they didn’t get to see her into adulthood, she certainly gave them the satisfaction of being successful parents.

Elenor had a brother, Michael, born when she was almost two years old and they became inseparable friends. She loved him without any of the jealousy that older siblings sometimes have and he learned to be happy from her example. She shared her toys with him and cried with him when he skinned his knees. It was as though she cared more about him than herself. He got to experience years of living with the best kind of sister that any guy could ask for.

Mr. and Mrs. Delaney, Sr. and Elenor’s parents, Mr. and Mrs. Wasden will never regret the times they got to watch Lenny grow from a precocious toddler to a loving little sister into a responsible teenager entering high school. They both received the satisfaction of seeing their children turn what could have been a heart break of a young relationship into a warm and friendly home. Their investments into their children had come to such a rewarding fulfillment that even the death of Lenny could not take that away. Even in her death, she left no one at fault and no blame to act as a cancer in their lives.

The list could go on of the folks in whose lives Lenny had a positive effect, but the point of this biography is that she did make a difference. Her life was not wasted just because she didn’t make it to the age of 70 or more. Elenor Margaret Delaney was my best friend, and I will always remember her and smile.

*

Thank you, Heide.

If you’d like to see my notes, click on the links below but please give your comments to Heide here first. That way you won’t be influenced by my feedback, and we can see if we think alike. Thank you.

*

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAHeide is a freelance writer who lives and writes from her home at the top of the Chesapeake Bay.

For the last five years, she enjoyed writing about various topics, focused mostly on home and garden issues in a commercial setting.

However, Heide is now an emerging writer in the short story market and finds it a far more creative and satisfying venture.

***

If you’d like to (family-friendly) submit your 5,000-word max stories for this blog, see the Submissions page.

And or 1,000-word max. stories for consideration for my main blog’s Flash Fiction Friday take a look here.

You can sign up to receive these blog posts daily or weekly so you don’t miss anything. You can contact me and find me on the internetview my Books (including my debut novel!) and I also have a blog creation / maintenance service especially for, but not limited to, writers. If you like this blog, you can help me keep it running by donating and choose an optional free eBook.

For writers / readers willing to give feedback and / or writers wanting feedback privately, take a look at my main blog’s Feedback page.

My online writing blog / Facebook groups are:

Morgen’s Online Non-Fiction Writing Group

Morgen’s Online Novel Writing Group

Morgen’s Online Poetry Writing Group

Morgen’s Online Script Writing Group

Thank you for reading this and we look forward to your comments.

Story Writing Exercises 124: Friday 21st June

Here are your four story exercises for today. Time yourself for 15 minutes for each one, then either have a break or move on to the next one.

124 lizard 33058You can do them in any order.

  1. Keywords: care, Avalon, chance, make, better
  2. Random: plenty of choice
  3. Picture: what does this inspire?
  4. One-word prompt: impose

Have fun, and do paste your writing in the comment boxes below so we can see how you got on!

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Story Writing Exercises 123: Thursday 20th June

Here are your four story exercises for today. Time yourself for 15 minutes for each one, then either have a break or move on to the next one.

123 old houses 132364You can do them in any order.

  1. Keywords: last, festival, £15, important, seen
  2. Random: jumping over a fence
  3. Picture: what does this inspire?
  4. Mixed bag: comedian (character 1), TV producer (ch.2), banana (object), shop queue (location), demanding (trait), something unavailable (dilemma)

Have fun, and do paste your writing in the comment boxes below so we can see how you got on!

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Story Writing Exercises 122: Wednesday 19th June

Here are your four story exercises for today. Time yourself for 15 minutes for each one, then either have a break or move on to the next one.

122 red plant 203944You can do them in any order.

  1. Keywords: heritage, particular, world, lamenting, happened
  2. Random: a topical discussion
  3. Picture: what does this inspire?
  4. Sentence start: Increasingly tired…

Have fun, and do paste your writing in the comment boxes below so we can see how you got on!

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Story Writing Exercises 121: Tuesday 18th June

Here are your four story exercises for today. Time yourself for 15 minutes for each one, then either have a break or move on to the next one.

121 plant 179243You can do them in any order.

  1. Keywords: male, mainstream, direction, private, pilot
  2. Random: a bad sense of humour
  3. Picture: what does this inspire?
  4. Tuesday Title: Doing something about it

Have fun, and do paste your writing in the comment boxes below so we can see how you got on!

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Story Writing Exercises 120: Monday 17th June

Here are your four story exercises for today. Time yourself for 15 minutes for each one, then either have a break or move on to the next one.

SONY DSCYou can do them in any order.

  1. Keywords: baby, time, detrimental, overshadow, shout
  2. Random: too young
  3. Picture: what does this inspire?
  4. Monday Monologue: Your character needs to dump his / her business partner

Have fun, and do paste your writing in the comment boxes below so we can see how you got on!

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Short Story for Critique 014: ‘Home is where the heart was…’ by Elle Kristianson

Welcome to Morgen’s Online Short Story Writing Group and the fourteenth story on this blog. This 2,331-word piece is by Elle Kristianson.

Please do comment in the section below telling us what you liked about this story and, what if anything, the author could do to improve upon it. Thank you – it’s very much appreciated! Elle did say:

“I’m interested in feedback on this story in progress. As it stands, it’s a series of moments that I am posting on a blog (http://elliekristianson.wordpress.com) in order to keep moving the idea forward. I’m not crystal clear on where its going at this point, but I am wondering what others might think about it. I don’t even know if this material is right for your group but I’m sure you’ll tell me. (There is more but this is a representative sampling.)”

I do have some feedback but I’ve just included it (below the story) as links to the scans of my handwritten-notes so I can let others comment here without being influenced by me. 🙂

*

Home is where the heart was

Did we touch? Probably not. We lay side by side on his sister’s bed in the dark, listening to the chaos in the house, feeling the seriousness of the moment. Graduation in a small town involves a lot of goodbyes, and it wasn’t until years later that I realized I didn’t say mine. I didn’t grasp what was happening. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t have identified the opportunity, much less articulated it. And I didn’t know at the time that I wouldn’t have a reason to go back. I wasn’t real to myself then. Its possible I even made this memory up.

I realize now too that I never really lived there, not like the rest of them. I moved in when I was 14, when the others were already established. At best, I was a temporary transplant, made even more tenuous when my father moved away. He and my stepmother didn’t consider me in their decision to leave, and I’ll never know if the move was truly necessary or whether they could have stuck it out for me. I moved in with a friend and finished high school without them. Its irrelevant now. But I never answer a “hometown” question when prompted, because it makes me feel like a fraud. I was a visitor, and the ties I feel to that place and time aren’t connected to anything solid, anything that would offer enough tension to enable me to find my way back there. The only line that has never been cut is the one that leads to that moment on graduation night.

Why did he pause there with me? Did he entertain for a moment the possibility of sharing something important? Did he want to touch me? I think now about how easy it would have been to reach for his hand. It’s a memory I should have forgotten by now, an instance that should have been swept away by an adulthood’s worth of experiences that have occurred since.

*

Signs

How to write about the signs without sounding like a total nutcase?  I admit I have given one of these objects enough weight that it can shift the energy of a moment. It has the power to make me stop and feel something. Ache. Fondness. A chill. Do I conjure it? Do I summon it into view? Do I give it meaning or is the meaning already there?

I am always looking for this particular sign, even when I try not to. Its almost subconscious. Even when I assume not seeing it is better than seeing it.  Even when I acknowledge that it can’t be real, that it’s just coincidence.  Even when months go by without seeing one.

Could I make it mean something? Am I that powerful? Did a thought of me just cross his mind? Or is the sign a warning? Maintain your focus, stay the course, because he’s not thinking about it. And neither should you. Stop this childish impulse and get on with it.

But in this one area, I want to be like a child. I want to believe that an angel gets its wings every time a bell rings. It’s not real. Then again, what if it is?

*

Just passing through

Black car on a black night, parked outside the tavern near the river. I don’t have a clear impression of his face. Why did I go outside, and why did he follow? Or did I follow him? We sat in the dark, me in the passenger seat, him behind the wheel, escapees from the reunion. Beyond a thin layer of trees and down a steep bank, the water would have been moving at a good clip. It had been 10 years.

Certain parts of the memory are preserved perfectly. The crispness of his sleeve as I brushed up against it, reaching for the radio. The halting, awkward conversation. We sat there long enough for the leather seat to warm under me and the quiet to deepen.

He seemed unsure about why he was there, and I may have stayed a few minutes longer than he did. I’m sure I wondered what I did wrong. I didn’t go back in to the bar.

I would wake in the morning in a cold motel room and head out without breakfast. The last of my things that hadn’t fit in the moving van in Salt Lake City were in the back of my little white car. I’d been too long in the desert. My reserves were low, and my resolve had withered and begun to crumble. But as I drove that day, as far up the west coast as I could, to where the air was cooler and the sky promised to rain, I reassembled the pieces.

I stopped for coffee when I crossed the state line.

*

To know or not to know

At 31, I left a devastating relationship with a married man. There are lots of things to say about this, and maybe I will say them here at some point. For now, it feels enough to acknowledge the enormity of the mistake. I was uncertain about my place in the world, and I felt very alone. Trust in myself was at an all-time low.

Then Jake appeared. Our introduction was an unexpected gift from co-workers who took pity and pulled me into their circle of outdoor thrill seekers, faux spiritualists, and unabashedly ambitious friends. For a time, they were a fun and lively group, and I was grateful to be among them.

Jake was solid, a graduate student who had grown up in a comfortable idwest suburb, with a stable family and an objective point of view. A philosopher, he had come out to the west coast to be an organic farmer, and then a writer, and finally a small business owner. I was drawn immediately to how normal he was. Confident and generous, handsome and untethered, he was everything the former lover wasn’t. From him, I felt no I. Jake offered the perfect chance to reinvent myself, and I eagerly took it.

When I realized I might be at a major fork in my road, I went looking for him. The other him. We hadn’t spoken since our high school reunion years before but when I found his email address, I sent him a message. I felt a sense of urgency, and I knew that if I paused, I wouldn’t have the courage to challenge our status quo. Would he respond? He did. But when I told him I was keeping a key under the mat for him, a metaphor I thought was evocative, it was met with silence.

As it turns out, he was married, disastrously. In the thick of it at that time, he was questioning his own value, measuring himself through someone else’s eyes. How I wish I could have helped him through that. But I didn’t know. I tugged on the thread between us, the vibration itself a message, but he was gone.

I knew he was a question I could never answer on my own. To move forward with Jake would mean agreeing to never know.

*

A wedding

Jake and I were married when I was 34. The wedding was on an island, at a time of year when the ferry lines are long and the sunlight is so soft and filtered, it soothes resistance. Late summer roses decorated the gazebo that looked out over the harbor, and voices carried over the marina. My mother and her friends still talk about how strikingly beautiful the setting was. They expected nothing less from me.

It was years before I could think about it without wincing. It was a bruise that couldn’t be touched. Like one of those dreams about a beautiful place that ends up being a stage background someone can roll away. One that has a void behind it.

Jake was calm. Awed, I think, to be taking this step, pleasing his family, measuring up to his friends. He may have been a bit bewildered about being the one in the tuxedo, but he liked it. His high school friend came in pajamas made of Chinese silk, and his best friend’s twin boys were our ring bearers.

But I wanted it to be over before it started. I felt like a gawker at an accident, watching my past meet my future. Family and friends from various eras tried to mingle. The maid of honor nursed a grudge. My best friend brought her cheating husband, who sat at the head table with the wedding party, holding their four month old son. My aunt got drunk and gave several overly sentimental toasts. Jake’s sister sized me up, holding her baby, flaunting evidence that she would always be one step ahead.

Friendships imploded that day. The caterer had a fit when guests uncorked their own wine. My parents forgot their keys and were stranded back on the mainland until late at night, when guests finally came to their rescue. Our reception photographer left without saying goodbye. (I have never seen the pictures he took.) And my new husband suffered his first disappointment of many when I, exhausted by the day, fell asleep before we could consummate the marriage.

Very little about the wedding felt right. Did I force it? Had we moved too fast? Had I picked the right guy for the wrong reasons, or the wrong guy for the right reasons? It wasn’t that I didn’t love Jake. But it wasn’t love that motivated me that day, it was gratitude. I was grateful to have the question of who was going to love me answered. I felt grateful and relieved to leave the old me behind. From this day forward, until death do me part, I would belong.

What I didn’t feel was happy.

*

The undertow

I can get through parts of the day without thinking about him. I might even laugh and realize I am laughing, and see that life goes on, whether or not he is here. I might be proud of those hours. I am proof that what we said did not matter, that his presence was never meant to be permanent. It’s as if I hadn’t said those things that he witnessed. What passed between us in that space no longer exists. It ceased to exist the moment I deleted it. Or maybe before, when he did.

But there are other moments in which I feel completely derailed. As if I am dissolving from the inside out. I reel and step quickly into the shadows to let the ache subside. In those moments, everything I am doing right is in jeopardy and at risk of being abandoned. If I succumb to the urge to back up slowly, to let the undertow pull me completely away from shore, I might not come back. But if I can just stay out of view, the ensuing silence might settle me again into my life. If I wait, the day might snap back into focus, so that I can move forward.

It’s crushing when the vacuum sucks these feelings in just as I think I am doing okay. At lunch with a friend, smiling next to my husband, hugging one of my children, I feel the weight of him and realize I am not whole. Even when I should be. Even though life is so much easier here than it could ever be with him.

I want to hear his voice. I want to see him. That is the terrible line I have drawn in the sand. I want to be real. And I am realizing that it isn’t that he doesn’t understand or hear me. It’s that he doesn’t want to. And there is no way around or over that. There is only through.

*

For better before worse

We didn’t have the first year everyone talks about, the newlywed year, the one where you have sex on the dining room table and then eat on the kitchen floor. The one where you buy pillows and stand for hours in the store aisle, playfully arguing the merits of various washing machines. The one where you learn each other chapter by chapter, in a linear and logical way. We didn’t wade in to our marriage.

Instead, Jake and I bypassed the warm, shallow waters and jumped from a higher and rockier place, where the water below was deep and cold, heavy and isolating. Where it was every man for himself. Jake wouldn’t have jumped, but I didn’t stop to think. I needed to be in all the way, immediately, for worse before better.

That first year was a dog paddle. We fought about everything, struggling to maintain ground and trying not to change. It was touch and go. We took turns being clingy and distant, and I was demanding in a way even I didn’t know I could be. Sex came in waves, too much and then stretches with none at all. I remember the things Jake broke—the phone, the bedroom door, and the leg of a kitchen chair. He wasn’t abusive, ever. Just incredibly frustrated by my inability to relax into our life.

Looking back, I can see I was testing to see how far he would stretch, determining his breaking point. How much would he take? It was a question I asked myself multiple times, both fearful and defiant. But Jake was like a pliant rubber band. Nothing I said deterred him permanently, or kept him from coming back to me with arms outstretched, ready to say sorry, willing to make it right. Even when it should have been me issuing the apology.

It took some time, but I came to understand that I could trust Jake with any feeling and any half-baked thought. I could be negative and insecure and stingy with my affections, and he would still come back for me. I was safe.

This was new. Unsettling.

*

Thank you, Elle

If you’d like to see my notes, click on the links below but please give your comments to Elle here first. That way you won’t be influenced by my feedback, and we can see if we think alike. Thank you.

Elle Kristianson is a writer, editor, and brand strategist; a mother of two beautiful girls; a wife of an entreprenuer and philosopher; and a person of often overblown imagination. She is currently writing a love story and is not sure yet how it will end, but these are the glimmers that keep her moving forward. You are welcome to help her figure it out. One of her favorite quotes is: If you don’t get your hands dirty, get messy, and tend to your creative fire, you will go crazy. — Erin Joy Henry.

That’s great. Thank you, Elle

***

If you’d like to (family-friendly) submit your 5,000-word max stories for this blog, see the Submissions page.

And or 1,000-word max. stories for consideration for my main blog’s Flash Fiction Friday take a look here.

You can sign up to receive these blog posts daily or weekly so you don’t miss anything. You can contact me and find me on the internetview my Books (including my debut novel!) and I also have a blog creation / maintenance service especially for, but not limited to, writers. If you like this blog, you can help me keep it running by donating and choose an optional free eBook.

For writers / readers willing to give feedback and / or writers wanting feedback privately, take a look at my main blog’s Feedback page. My online writing blog / Facebook groups are:

Morgen’s Online Non-Fiction Writing Group

Morgen’s Online Novel Writing Group

Morgen’s Online Poetry Writing Group

Morgen’s Online Script Writing Group

Thank you for reading this and we look forward to your comments.

Story Writing Exercises 119: Friday 14th June

Here are your four story exercises for today. Time yourself for 15 minutes for each one, then either have a break or move on to the next one.

119 toast 99295You can do them in any order.

  1. Keywords: soon, cup, obtain, street, national
  2. Random: a first time
  3. Picture: what does this inspire?
  4. One-word prompt: king

Have fun, and do paste your writing in the comment boxes below so we can see how you got on!

Continue reading

Story Writing Exercises 118: Thursday 13th June

Here are your four story exercises for today. Time yourself for 15 minutes for each one, then either have a break or move on to the next one.

118 red light 59064You can do them in any order.

  1. Keywords: favour, pop, search, dark, review
  2. Random: opening an important envelope
  3. Picture: what does this inspire?
  4. Mixed bag: secretary (character 1), receptionist (ch.2), packet of love hearts (object), building site (location), jealous (trait), noisy neighbour (dilemma)

Have fun, and do paste your writing in the comment boxes below so we can see how you got on!

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Story Writing Exercises 117: Wednesday 12th June

Here are your four story exercises for today. Time yourself for 15 minutes for each one, then either have a break or move on to the next one.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAYou can do them in any order.

  1. Keywords: goodnight, say, many, took, price
  2. Random: confused by technology
  3. Picture: what does this inspire?
  4. Sentence start: As their trolleys clashed…

Have fun, and do paste your writing in the comment boxes below so we can see how you got on!

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Story Writing Exercises 116: Tuesday 11th June

Here are your four story exercises for today. Time yourself for 15 minutes for each one, then either have a break or move on to the next one.

Abstract worldYou can do them in any order.

  1. Keywords: left, walk, words, much, everyone
  2. Random: at the vet’s
  3. Picture: what does this inspire?
  4. Tuesday Title: Misunderstanding

Have fun, and do paste your writing in the comment boxes below so we can see how you got on!

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Story Writing Exercises 115: Monday 10th June

Here are your four story exercises for today. Time yourself for 15 minutes for each one, then either have a break or move on to the next one.

SONY DSCYou can do them in any order.

  1. Keywords: tempted, carry, recover, teabag, moist
  2. Random: shirt dotted with blood
  3. Picture: what does this inspire?
  4. Monday Monologue: Your character is about to meet his / her partner’s family for the first time

Have fun, and do paste your writing in the comment boxes below so we can see how you got on!

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Story Writing Exercises 114: Friday 7th June

Here are your four story exercises for today. Time yourself for 15 minutes for each one, then either have a break or move on to the next one.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAYou can do them in any order.

  1. Keywords: grade, issue, millions, single, anonymous
  2. Random: finds out a secret
  3. Picture: what does this inspire?
  4. One-word prompt: copy

Have fun, and do paste your writing in the comment boxes below so we can see how you got on!

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Story Writing Exercises 113: Thursday 6th June

Here are your four story exercises for today. Time yourself for 15 minutes for each one, then either have a break or move on to the next one.

113 wedding 48363You can do them in any order.

  1. Keywords: middle, big, Bob, every, imagination
  2. Random: betraying a friend
  3. Picture: what does this inspire?
  4. Mixed bag: opera singer (character 1), gas engineer (ch.2), bottle of sparkling water (object), hallway (location), self-importance (trait), front door won’t shut (dilemma)

Have fun, and do paste your writing in the comment boxes below so we can see how you got on!

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Story Writing Exercises 112: Wednesday 5th June

Here are your four story exercises for today. Time yourself for 15 minutes for each one, then either have a break or move on to the next one.

Alien eggsYou can do them in any order.

  1. Keywords: new, taking, OK, quote, problem
  2. Random: exposing a lie
  3. Picture: what does this inspire?
  4. Sentence start: Frankly bored…

Have fun, and do paste your writing in the comment boxes below so we can see how you got on!

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Story Writing Exercises 111: Tuesday 4th June

Here are your four story exercises for today. Time yourself for 15 minutes for each one, then either have a break or move on to the next one.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAYou can do them in any order.

  1. Keywords: piece, another, same, self, own
  2. Random: bad behaviour
  3. Picture: what does this (Jamaican flag) inspire?
  4. Tuesday Title: Talking about it finally

Have fun, and do paste your writing in the comment boxes below so we can see how you got on!

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Story Writing Exercises 110: Monday 3rd June

Here are your four story exercises for today. Time yourself for 15 minutes for each one, then either have a break or move on to the next one.

110 french cheese 786696You can do them in any order.

  1. Keywords: wrong, agreement, people, article, original
  2. Random: an interview
  3. Picture: what does this inspire?
  4. Monday Monologue: Your character solves a problem

Have fun, and do paste your writing in the comment boxes below so we can see how you got on!

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