Tag Archives: writing prompts

Writing Prompt – Character Development

24 Feb

While I was feeling very uninspired to write a blog post (the couch and netflix sounding much more interesting), I remembered I’d downloaded a sweet little ebook filled with writing prompts that help in moving my novel along. So here’s to completing two tasks in one swoop : blog post and working on my book.

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The prompt I’m going to do is all about finding out what is missing in my hero. And how has it changed them, pushing them out of their comfort zone and into the special world of the story?  How has that missing thing left them broken? “Your hero’s flaw lies in that broken place”

Georgia is my MC (main character).  What I’m thinking so far is that it’s a broken heart/lacking purpose in her life. It’s kind of a combo problem because the person she fell in love with – years ago – was the one to make her look past her ‘perfect’ life and start searching for a purpose, a passion. She became more settled, less frivolous of a person as she sought to better herself and her life. For years though, she’s pushed the restlessness, the emptiness, aside and buried it deep. But it’s about to intrude on her life in a way that she won’t be able to ignore it anymore.

Having that emptiness, that pain, has spoiled  all her childish dreams for her future. She must let them go in order to seek the remedy for her broken heart. She’s going to have to disappoint those she holds most dear if she wants to find her purpose. She comes to realize that she can’t stay in the same routine she’s been in if she wants to be fulfilled.

I think she’s always been broken. The way she was raised was very…hmm, one could say, lacking in the most important things in life. She was taught that what’s on the outside is what matters. And that maintaining ones social standing is the most important thing, no matter really what you have to do to get there.

Does this mean she has a hard time looking past others’ appearance, and seeing into who they truly are?  Or that, even when she’s broken out of that world, and into the special world, that she still sees people based on their social standing?

I think I’m going to have to mull over how her flaw ties into that broken place….and how to work it into my plot board.

~Laura

writing prompt – Promises

17 Feb

Hi friends, today’s writing prompt is “I’ve lost count of the promises I’ve broken for you” – it is a bit darker than what I normally write. I’m trying to get out of my comfort zone a little with some of these. Because happy stories are easier to write. But, growth is necessary! So, here we go.

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“I’ve lost count of the promises I’ve broken for you.”

“What? I would never ask you to break you word!” He sounded disgusted that I would even suggest it.

“No. You wouldn’t ask me to. You just know I will. Because you come first – no matter what, right? I don’t even have a life outside of you anymore.” My words were bitter but I couldn’t stop them – I didn’t want to stop them. This had been coming for a long time. Years, in fact. But this latest scene was one I couldn’t put up with. It was the last straw. He looked at me with a broken expression.

“I love you, Merry. You love me. We’re supposed to be there for each other. You want a life away from me?”

I steeled myself against the pain in his voice. It wasn’t real. I knew it wasn’t real. He was the best manipulator I’d ever seen. I mean, he’d kept me tied to him for the past ten years, hadn’t he?

“I don’t know what love is. I don’t think you do either. When was the last time you were there for me, anyway?” I wrapped my arms around myself as he came closer, putting his hand on my arm.

“I was there that time you broke your collarbone, remember babe? I took you to the hospital and stayed with you the whole time.” I nodded in remembrance. He’d broken it in one of his rages. I didn’t say anything about that though, just took a step back out of his reach.

“You’re possessive and I’m your lapdog. I come every time you call. I can’t take it anymore Frank. I just can’t.” My  voice broke and I rubbed my forehead, wishing this was already over.

If I had been watching, I would have seen the look in his eyes. I knew better than to close my eyes when he was in the same room – I’d learned that in the first six months.  The back of his hand caught my cheekbone, snapping my head to the side. I caught myself on the side table, waiting for the next blow. When it didn’t come, I turned.  Frank had sat on the sofa, his head in his hands. I slowly reached for my phone, keeping an eye on him. I hit speed dial 6, and wrapped my hand around the other item in my jacket pocket. As I waited, the shakes started. His forced sobs filled the room and I knew I was supposed to go comfort him. Apologize. But I couldn’t do it – wasn’t I supposed to be breaking free from him? Instead, I spoke the words I’d practiced hundreds of times, through chattering teeth.

“It’s over, Frank. Your lying and manipulating days are over. I’m leaving.” 

He stood up in a rage but stopped when he saw the gun in my hand. I held it straight at his heart, calmly, as if my own heart wasn’t pounding so hard I was sure he’d hear it. “Put that thing down, babe. You’re gonna hurt somebody.” His wheedling tone belied his stress. And I exulted in it.

“The only one who’ll get hurt is you, if you get any closer to me.” I willed the doorbell to ring, the gun was already starting to get heavy. 

Frank side-stepped toward me with his hands outstretched, “Give it to me. Now.” His tone was hard.

Before I even thought about it, I shot him in the knee. He fell instantly, yelling in pain.  Just as he lunged for me, the front door burst open and salvation arrived in the form of a new friend of mine – a police officer and her partner. 

“Babe, tell them it’s just a misunderstanding.” He ordered me to lie, still not considering that I wouldn’t do it. His control over me had been complete. But no longer. 

I smiled. “I told you, I won’t break any more promises for you. And I promised myself I’d see you dead, or in jail. Take your pick.”

 

 

Come back  next week for a review on Eight Cousins by Louisa May Alcott.

~Laura

 

Writing Prompt – Deamon the Villain

24 Jan

“What are you doing here?” Daemon spewed the question out of the side of his mouth, the anger and disgust evident. If circumstances were different, he’d sideline the Hero, so that maybe he’d finally learn to stop interfering. But as it was, Daemon had to satisfy himself with a distracted question and turning his back on him. Far worse things were in the dark parking garage with him right now. He could deal with the Hero later.  He cast about, looking for the fiend who had lured him here. The cover of night made it easy for one such as him to hide. But he quickly remembered that it was to his advantage as well and took cover next to a pillar, pulling his long black coat around himself.  To his dismay, the Hero followed him. The insufferable guy slid next to him, his gray clothes melting into the darkness. 

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“Get out of here. I don’t have time to deal with you.” The side of his mouth twitched in irritation.

“I’m here to help.” The Hero’s voice was quiet and solid, not a waver of fear in it. Despite himself, Daemon felt a flicker of admiration for his long-time nemesis. Disgusted at the emotion, he jerked his collar high around his neck and checked that the safety was off on his gun. Once again, his eyes searched the darkness, sure that at any moment…

“Daemon. Come out, come out wherever you are.” The voice was alluring and dangerous yet deep inside, Daemon wished he could do as the dark voice asked.  He felt the Hero move from his side, but kept his eyes in front of him  – the Shadow would have to move eventually. “Daemon – I don’t like waiting. Come out here where I can see you. There’s no use hiding, I’ll find you eventually. Let’s get this over with, shall we?” 

The voice slithered inside him, planting doubt that he’d make it out of this alive. Daemon silently made his way to the next pillar, hiding behind parked cars as he moved. From the corner of his eye, he caught a flash of the Hero on the other side of the parking garage. Desperate to get a better fix on where the Shadow was hiding, he screwed up his courage and hollered into the night ,

“What do you want with me?”

A low cackle filled the cavernous space, “You know exactly why I’m here. Don’t toy with me, pathetic worm. You haven’t dealt with that Hero like you were supposed to. So.” The voice dropped to a low pitch, so full of malevolence that even Daemon shivered. “You will die. And then he will die.” 

He brought the gun up, ready to shoot the first movement he saw, even knowing the bullet wouldn’t harm his opponent. Instead, a loud crashing noise followed by a startled grunt rent the air. Daemon ran towards it, dodging cars and concrete dividers as he went. The noise of the fight ended in a sharp, angry scream and Daemon slid to a halt as the Shadow fell to his knees. The Hero stood nearby, doubled over.  The hilt of a knife protruded from the Shadow’s stomach, all black with a red stone set in the pommel. Before Daemon could react, the Shadow fell in a dead heap, stabbed by the only weapon that could kill one such as him. 

The Hero turned. And instead of the obnoxious joke that Daemon was certain he would make, the Hero’s face was contorted, and he too fell to his knees. Daemon laid the Hero on his back, his hand beneath his head. The Hero’s blood covered him now but there was no victory in it for him.

“You pulled the Shadow’s knife from your gut? That was suicide!” Daemon’s heavy voice registered shock as he realized what had happened. 

“He was…going to kill…you.” The Hero gasped and coughed. 

“But…that would’ve done it for you. No more villain to your hero.”

“There’s more to.. you than…you know.”

Daemon snorted in derision, sure that the Hero had lost any sense he’d had. He looked over at the Shadow, laying in folds of black fabric, a ghastly look on his face. “That was the only way to kill him, you know. That knife. To kill such a creature…” Daemon shook his head, relieved and confused all at the same time. 

“You are…reborn, Daemon.The darkness will not… haunt you anymore.” With his last breath, the Hero blessed his enemy. And Daemon stayed on his knees, cradling the one whom he’d hated for all his life.

 

Today’s writing prompt was ‘The Hero dies for the Villain’. But I thought it would kind of spoil things if I told you that beforehand.

I hope you enjoyed this sad little short story! I’m plotting away on my book and I can’t wait to start writing it! By the  way, have I mentioned how much I’m loving The Writer’s Journey by Christopher Vogler? Definite recommend, there.

Anyhow, come back on Thursday for this month’s book review! Thanks for stopping by, let me know if you’ve got any writing prompt ideas, or even places to find cool ones online!

~Laura

Most Popular Posts of 2016

20 Jan

 

I had quite the time deciding which posts to share with you – how do I limit which ones to share? What about the ones that I loved but that didn’t get much love themselves? So. This took quite a while the other evening, paring it down to this – which is still too long, probably but I just couldn’t cut anymore. From doing this though, I see that my health posts are overall the most popular. I will try and write more with this focus for you guys but no promises. I’m over here making it a day at a time, wondering if the new ache I have is because of my Lyme or just an ache that everyone has from time to time. Fun stuff, that.

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Anyway! I’ll get off the rabbit trail and back to the topic! These first few posts are random/fun ones and the rest are organized for easy access. Enjoy, share the ones you love!

Currently – aka why SGL has been so silently lately

Our Weekend in Bend

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HEALTH:

The Big Health Update

Health Update – 8/23/16

Fighting Lyme and Chronic Migraines

Symptoms of my Lyme Disease

Unexpected Side Effects of Chronic Pain

The Tears of My Heart

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leaving the dog park

 

BOOKS REVIEWS:

My Top-15 Favorite books 2016

Book Review – May 2016

Book Review – August 2016

Book Review – The Little Prince

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WRITING:

Writing Shorts

Work in Progress – Amelia’s first caller

Sharing a bit of my Novel

Writing Short -Green Moment

Short Story Sharing – The Feud Changes

Short Story Sharing – The Book

Fun Times on Vacation back Home

 

See you next week,

Laura

 

 

Short Story Sharing – Tea for Two

6 Jan

It’s time for a short story again! I decided to try and write something a little different than I normally do  (it’s so much easier to write happy things, isn’t it?) , but it still isn’t what I was originally thinking it would be. It’s interesting how the writer isn’t really the one in charge of the story. I hope you enjoy anyway.

Prompt: write about a conversation that’s had over a cup of tea. Is it sinister? Devastating news? Meeting someone they’ve longed to?

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The small table had been set to the nines. The tiered serving plates were filled with tea sandwiches, cookies and truffles. A small bouquet lent its color and fragrance while the china boasted its fine craftsmanship. Golden spoons rested on white napkins. Teacups sat atop their saucers, and the small teapot sat full of golden liquid, steam rising from the spout. Nothing had been overlooked for this tete a tete. The old man stepped back to survey his handiwork and a crooked smile covered his face. Pleased with his results, he took off the flowered apron and hung it gently on its hook. Noticing that his visitor was due to arrive any minute, he shuffled down the hall to the bedroom to change his shirt.

At the chiming of the bell, he made his way to the front door to welcome the young woman who stood impatiently on the other side. She paused when she saw the table, set so elaborately, that he had to encourage her to sit down while he served.  He could tell she was nervous, but he didn’t comment, he simply poured the tea and motioned toward the tower of treats within easy reach. Her long fingers plucked a truffle off the plate and nibbled it.

“These are delicious.” Her comment came without thought, the taste so surprised her that she momentarily forgot her vow of stubborn silence.

The old man bobbed his head, “I’m glad you like them. There’s a little chocolate shop around the corner. We’ll have to go, next time.”

At that, the young woman’s smile disappeared. “I don’t think so.”

“We don’t have to. I’m happy to get some more. It’s one of my favorite places to -”

“No. I mean. I mean, there won’t be a next time, George.”

The words, so softly spoken, still pierced his heart so sharp that he hunched over and all his spirit seemed to leave him.

“He doesn’t like you coming, does he.”

Despite her decision to be brave, a tear slid down her cheek as she shook her head. “He only let me come to tell you I won’t be back.”

George nodded and sighed heavily, his shoulders rising and falling slowly. “I can’t very well blame him. Well, let’s enjoy this time we have then.” With a visible show of effort, he raised himself up again and picked up his teacup, holding it out in a toast, “To times to be remembered, to people to be embraced and to love, that knows nothing of jealousy or hate.”

In that moment, the young woman realized how much she hadn’t seen before, in her past visits to this small house, the visits where she’d sat quietly, letting him tell her about his life and long-dead wife. He’d ask her questions and she’d give him the tiniest details in return, not really sure she wanted him in her life. But now, as it was all coming to an end she realized that the man who lived in it, the man that she’d never get to know fully as her father – was the richest man in town.

Have you had a fancy tea laid out for you? I’d love to hear about it! Have a happy weekend!

~Laura

 

 

Short Story Sharing – The Book

9 Dec

Writing prompt : Write about the book she read until it fell apart

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Riding the train to work everyday gives one lots of opportunities to observe people. I started watching one lady in particular – every day she’d sit down and pull out a small book. There were gold letters etched in the front but I was never close enough to read what it said. But every day she’d read until her stop. Diablo St.  She’d sigh and slip a bit of ribbon between the pages, still clutching the book as she  disappeared into the crowd on the platform.

The first day I saw her, the book was shiny and new. That’s about how I’d describe her too, come to think of it. She had a presence about her that gave off a warm glow, and the peace in her face drew me. More than once I thought about approaching her, but I feared scaring such a one as she.  And so, I watched as the years sped by. Day by day we’d ride the same train, and day by day I’d watch her faithfully read her little book.  I didn’t notice the changes in her and the book as life caught me up in its wandering, demanding way. Until one morning when I really looked at her, as I hadn’t in years.

The peace on her face was buried beneath wrinkles and worries. The welcoming glow barely burned for anyone to see. She seemed tattered and worn and I my heart ached. But then she pulled out her book.

As she’d done dozens of times. But this time, i noticed it.

It was old. Tattered. Worn. Creased.

What happened to your book?”   I was shocked to hear the words fly from my lips. Her head slowly lifted until her eyes met mine.  She gave me a quizzical look and I leaned forward in my seat , “It’s tattered and worn. Look, it’s about to fall apart. Can’t you get a new one?” 

The smile she gave me made me feel less like a fool that I was being and more like a kind benefactor. “There isn’t another one of these in all the world.”

I sighed in frustration, watching her slender fingers caress the book’s cover. And it seemed to me in that moment, that nothing else in the world mattered but that book. “Put it away then. It’ll get hurt.” 

“You have watched me read this book for years. Why do you now care about it? Her question was asked so gently that I chided myself for not caring earlier. Her eyes pulled me in in a way that I’d never felt before. I shrugged helplessly, not knowing what to say, or even if I’d be able to say it. It was like she’d gotten inside my brain, rendering me speechless. “You are the first person to care. Did you know that? No one else has talked to me these many years. But you, you watched and today you cared. Thank you. “

And then I watched her slip the bit of ribbon between the pages. She closed the book reverently and slowly offer it to me.

Touching that small book changed my life in a way I cannot explain. Something that had strove to be richer, smarter, faster finally broke and I cared nothing for those things. As I cradled it in my hands, I felt tears slide down my cheeks.

Thank you. I will treasure it always.” I felt a small pressure on my shoulder and then she was gone.

I opened the worn cover to the front page. Read the title and then reverently read it again.  Before I knew it, I’d missed my stop but I didn’t quit reading. I found that the words had life. Meaning. Purpose. And I found that the more I read, the more I yearned to read.  Eventually, I closed the book and rubbed my thumb over the worn cover. Unexpectedly, tears began to course down my cheeks once again. I tried to catch them before they further injured the book but one splashed on the torn corner. When I moved to rub it away, the corner was repaired. In surprise, I saw the book looked as good as new once again. The creases were gone. The binding was sturdy once again. I laughed delightedly and hugged it to my chest.

“Thank you. I will treasure it always.”

 

~Now, before you ask me what the book is, let me tell you right now. I don’t rightly know. That’s the funny thing about these word prompts, the words just come and even if I don’t understand quite what it is, I write it. Also, I don’t edit these overly much. Probably a mistake, I know. But I love just writing quick prompts to get my brain going and not worrying about editing. I’m doing enough of that on my novel!! I hope you enjoyed this and that it gave you something to smile, and possibly think, about for today.

Happy Friday and stay safe in this crazy weather!

~Laura

 

Writing Short- Refusal

22 Nov

Hello lovely readers! I’m here at my parents on vacation AND am still trying to write sufficiently enough for nanowrimo! But before the real craziness begins, I wanted to share a writing prompt that I did the other day, when my brain refused to work on my novel. (yes, that’s a normal problem for us writers!!)

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“I want the part of you that you refuse to give”

I don’t understand why you’ve held back from me, after all this time and all we’ve been through, you hold yourself apart, as if that side of you isn’t there. you laugh and you live and yet, behind your eyes, i see that it’s all an echo. Deep within, there is a part of you that you’ve hidden.  But you can never forget it, and I know it’s there. I try to draw you out; show you that you can trust me with that part of you; but you refuse to see. you refuse to let it out. Will i be able to live with the part that you’re willing to give? or will the knowledge that you’re holding something back – something that is so important to who you are, ruin what we have? 

OR

So long ago we met. So long ago we told each other the stories of our lives. I told you about my adventures and you told me yours. but when i added them up, yours were short. I brought them to you one day and asked you, what happened to those years, those years you left out of the telling? you turned away and said they didn’t matter- they didn’t happen. I didn’t press, but when you cried the whole night through, i held you close. Our lives are everything we dreamed of now, we’ve come so far from that ramshackle apartment but still, every year, you dissolve in tears. and i hold you close.  it’s coming once again, i can see it building in your eyes – the pain, disbelief, denial and despair. You turn from me, fleeing to your sanctuary. Every other time, I let you leave. but now, I ask you why? why every year do we go through this?  I need to understand.  

 

OR

fine. if you won’t give it to me – i’ll take it. 

 

~ I just couldn’t help myself, I had to keep writing until the words stopped! I really wanted one to turn out happy, but well, I think they got progressively worse (/creepy)!

Hope you have a fantastic day,

~Laura

Writing Short -Green Moment

4 Oct

Writing prompt time! “Write 25 sentences that all start with the word ‘green’. Just see if something interesting happens. Trust me. (use any color) ”

Here’s what I came up with!

 

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Green leaves slowly fading to gold.

Green grass losing that touch of neon

Green eyes looking for the last wildflowers

Green house on a hill all alone

 

Green bottles reflecting the sun

Green sign on the roadside, leaning

Green preying mantis swaying with the stalk it’s on

Green beans dying on the vine

Green truck speeding by

Green ivy on the fence

 

Green galoches made for splashing

Green raincoat to keep one dry

Green scarf to warm one’s nose

Green swings lonely in the playground

Green gloves forgotten on a bench

Green ball covered in moss

 

Green  path filled with mud

Green balloon sailing over the trees

Green river flowing fast

Green feather found at last

 

Green door to let one in

Green chair to snuggle in

Green blanket to cover one’s toes

Green tea to sip on

Green eyes sleepy at last.

 

I hope you liked it!

Why don’t you give this prompt a try? Share your 25 sentences in comments, or share a link to them! I’d love to read them! 

~Laura

Character Development – Amelia

13 Sep

I just found this site that has writing prompts, and I’m excited to find this section, as I’m realizing that creating backstory for my characters is something I need to work on. There are six areas, I’ll do three today and three next time!

chrctrdevelopmentAmelia

Here’s the link again for where I got these Writing Exercises.

Developing Your Character

1) Write ten ‘factual’ statements about your character, then ten lies, then ten odd/bizarre statements.

Truths

1- She is 15

2- She loves to read

3- She longs to explore the world

4 – She can’t please her mother

5- Proper etiquette eludes her

6- She doesn’t worry over fashion statements

7- She has 3 brothers

8- She is tall

9- She hates practicing piano

10 – Favorite time of year is when her aunt visits

Lies

1- She is an impeccable dresser

2- Her mother is her best friend

3- She doesn’t have any friends

4- Her hair is straight

5- She’s an only child

6- She never wants to leave her hometown

7- Her only goal in life is to be a homemaker

8- She is fat

9- She has a close relationship with her father

10- Reading is boring to her

Odd/Bizarre –  

  I tried to fill these out, but i drew a blank

every time, so I decided to skip it. no use wasting time. Shrug.

2. Write a back-story – very important

Your character should have a back-story, because this can help you decide how s/he might behave in present situations. Here are some questions to answer about your character:

Background:
Gender: female
Race: white
Social class : middle in small town, upper in city
How many siblings: 3
Parents’ relationship: strained/polite
Neighbourhood: nice but not high class
Health/disability: healthy
Religion: ??
Level of education: ??research

Present circumstances:
Age: 15
Political views:starts having some as she gets older
Appearance: red hair, rather tall, pretty
Habits : reading,
Fears/ phobias : disappointing her aunt, not getting to travel, heights?
What s/he gets upset about :
What s/he gets excited about : the theater, good books, travel, writing
What s/he really dislikes in other people : superficiality, dishonesty
What s/he admires in others : being true to themselves, even against society

3. Give your character a few contradictory traits.

No-one is ever that straightforward:

Currently Is:

Imaginative   Apologetic    Innocent   Likeable   Loyal    Clumsy     Caring     Curious   Insecure

Dutiful    Easy Going     Graceful    Shy   Thoughtful     Trusting   Adventurous    Sensitive

Is going to be:

Determined    Responsible   Wary    Ambitious     Independent     Bold   Calm   Cautious (in relationships)

Opinionated

Stays:

Adventurous    Loyal  Caring     Curious    Thoughtful   Likeable   Innocent    Sensitive

Imaginative   Clumsy   Insecure

And that’s it for today! Come back later in the week for the last part, if you want of course.

~Laura

Short Story Sharing – writing prompts

12 Aug

I am enjoying using writing prompts lately and this is one that was fun from the other day. I am trying to get better at story/character development at 900 words and less but I am imagining expanding on this one day…..

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Prompt : Your best friend knocks on your door one afternoon. You open it and he or she is dressed in a strange costume. Before you can say anything, your friend hands you a sword and says, “I need your help. Your family’s life depends on it.” Just then, your friend opens what looks to be…

A small purse hanging from his hips and pulls out a plain shirt, the color of hay and a sword belt. “Put these on. And quick!”

He rests his hand on the hilt of his own sword while glancing around our quiet neighborhood. By the time I had got the shirt on and the sword in place, he was pulling me across the lawn to the narrow path in between our houses.

“What is going on? Why are you dressed like that?”

“Shh!” He stopped quickly and turned to face me, his black eyebrows gathered close over tired eyes. “You want to get us killed? We’ve been up for days trying to keep them back but we just can’t do it, we need your help.” He started pulling me along again, weaving in and out of houses until I could hear voices and feet stomping and metal clinking against concrete. “You’ve got to sneak in and get the crown back, it’s the only way we will win.”

“The crown?”  But just as I started to tell him he had gone crazy, I caught sight of the most extraordinary thing. Right in the middle of town, in the baseball field, was the largest encampment of horses, men and tents. He huddled next to some wooden barrels and waited for me to follow.

“Yes, the crown. And you’ve got to go now. Get to the tent in the middle. The crown is in there. But don’t be seen, no matter what, don’t be seen. Now go!”

The urgency of his words, and the sight of so many men dressed just as he was, had me moving forward before I even knew it. But his hand pulled me back behind the barrel again, “I almost forgot. You need this too” and so saying, he pulled his black cape from his back and tossed it on mine. Tying the strings around my neck he nodded.

Moving quietly, I hurried from one hiding spot to the next, staying in the shadows. My ears strained for familiar sounds even as I got deeper into this strange camp of soldiers. But there were no sounds of cars driving by, music blaring or dogs barking. I couldn’t hear anything but my heart pounding and men planning their next attack.

It felt like years until I reached the middle tent – its flaps were flung open and light poured from inside. I squatted next to some boxes stacked three high and watched to see if anyone was in the tent. Soon a man as large as a bear came to the opening,

“On your feet, men! We go to defeat Kliren this day!”  At his words, a cheer went up while the field soon found itself empty of all but me, still hiding beside the boxes. I knew I couldn’t wait long for who knew where they had gone, and when they would come back? I wondered who Kliren was while I snuck into the tent, peeking inside to make sure it really was empty. A quick search revealed a large trunk and I hurried to it, eager to get the crown and.. it was locked! I could feel my heart start pounding even harder as I grabbed the sword at my side, fear holding me frozen.

“The key! I’ve got to find the key!”  Hearing myself whisper gave me courage and I began another search, not knowing where to look. Soon I stumbled upon it hidden in a pouch , and spun to get in in the lock before that man came back.

A twist. A click. A lift. And there was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Shining gold and brilliant jewels in a perfect circle on top of books and clothes and chain metal. I snatched it up, locked the trunk and tossed the key back where I’d found it – thinking that then we would have more time to get away. I snuck back the way I had come, sticking to the shadows and barely breathing.

“You got it? Good. I hear them coming back, but we’ve got to do one more thing…”

“Max? Max, what are you doing?”

“Mom?” I couldn’t see her, but she was close.

“You’re supposed to be cleaning your room. I don’t think you’ve picked up one thing.”

Confused, I looked around for my friend, and my sword and…I was in my room. “Huh?”

“Max.”  Mom sounded upset. “Now.”

I watched her shut the door behind her and looked around me again. What had happened? I could still feel my heart pounding and the weight of the sword at my side. Sighing, I started cleaning but stopped after a few minutes in shock. There, on my desk behind a stack of books was the crown. Its jewels were shining as bright as the gold.

And I smiled.

Do you use writing prompts? What else do you do to help get your ‘creative juices’ flowing?

~Laura

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