Forging ahead with fictional endeavours: ~ Write a life on a page and hurry not to its grave; abhor not the coming age, for eternal is the next page. ~ Read what you will, I hope you will enjoy reading as much as I do writing.

Posts tagged ‘writing prompts’

Finding Inspiration: Writers tricks

I haven’t felt like writing much recently.  Despite the title, it’s not the result of lack of inspiration. It’s because I have felt no desire to write. As a blogger and a writer, that’s a death sentence. Today I’d like to discuss tricks we all use when writing instead of forcing myself to write a flash fic or poem.  However, I would also like any readers to contribute tips and tricks of their own.  Let’s have a little discussion. 🙂

The biggest road-block to writing is often feeling uninspired.  You can write in this state but I’ve always found that I’ve 90% more critical about what I’ve written when uninspired.  Subject matter always seems off without that brain blast of creativity flowing into the prose.  My favourite ways to get inspiration:

1) Meditate or walk.  My mind seems to go into a deep thought process when I do either.  At first it is all mundane reasoning but then an idea will just pop out of nowhere and urge to write it out just takes hold of all judgement.

2) Read or watch something.  To succeed in storytelling often involves taking what you know (and like) from other sources and putting your own stamp on it.  I know this sounds dangerously like plagiarism, doesn’t it?  It is if you take the ideas as they are. Writing is all about what you know and synthesizing something new.  There are only 7 plot types after all. 🙂

3) Roll a dice. (Or a random number generator) If I’m really stuck for ideas I start making a list of potential options, assign a number to each then let chance decide.  Sometimes the resulting scene is wonderfully new. Othertimes it is hilarious. In either event you end up with fantastic material. (I’m actually considering making a weekly game out of this one for my blog.)

4) Specifically for character design and sometimes house design – The sims. I admit I’ve spent too much time playing this recently. However, it is a great way to visualise what your character looks like if you are artistically challenged, like myself. You can even use it to write character biographies if you are so inclined.

5) Reading through older pieces you have written. We put so much into writing that often re-reading can spin off new ideas.

6) Writing prompts and photo prompts.  Most of my flash fiction and poetry I’ve published here is based off one prompt of another.

7) Historical research.  While fantasy can’t really be completely based off the biography of societies it is a great way to learn how people lived, what social situations were like, how decisions on a national level affected populaces, ect.

Typo

typewriter

Combo prompt today.  This one combines prompts from Monday’s Finish the Story and Sunday Photo Fiction.

The old typewriter had a mind of its own. The antique was part of Olivia’s inheritance. Originally, the possessed item belonged to a great-uncle. “Andy had talent,” Grandmother claimed, “With this it will seep into you.” Olivia ignored her; she was interested in its occult nature; keys that moved. The messages received – written by spirits. Olivia had to test it out in Casa rosa, whose unsolved homicides were infamous.

Casa Rosa was unoccupied; occupants didn’t last long. Sneaking in was effortless. Years of redecoration and the dwelling smelt of blood and rot. Olivia lit her candles and got to work. For once, the spirits came when called. The flash-light flickered while the temperature dropped in concert to the house Groaning. The keys clacked.

Get. Out.

Past the typewriter, the walls bled. Taking heed, she bolted.

sunsetCollapsed on the front lawn, she looked up a the sky awash with colours and laughed. Talent indeed.

The keys typed out a new message. I. Meant. Get ME Out.

Not even Lister

fortune-cookies1This one’s based on the photo prompt from Picture It and Write with a loose valentine’s theme. Have a giggle, it’s good for you. 🙂  Which nerdlings get the reference? 😉

“Well? What do you think?” David put his fork down and pushed the plate away. Kate had that harried look about her. She was… twitching. Fingers drummed on the flour dusted bench. David examined the confectionery littered kitchen before making a considered response. “Kate… I love you, but… I don’t think there’s any call for curry flavoured cakes!” David rose and slunk away before the curry-drenched knives were drawn.

Aer-Currum

chariot

Here’s a belated piece for Sunday Photo fiction. I finally managed to cut it back to near 150 words.  It was originally 3 times longer. I had sooo much detail I wanted to put in; completely forgetting the word count!!

Avid’s pre-flight check was meticulous. The maiden voyage of ‘Aer-Currrum’ was nigh. Time and money had been poured into the construction of a chariot designed to be drawn by Pegasi. It was unique – a y-shaped yoke for wing-span, wings; light-weight construction with safety harness, patient training of flighty Pegasi. Today would decide Avid’s fame or infamy.

There was a moment of pure exhilaration as they graced the skies. Then the unknown laws of aerodynamics made themselves felt. The Pegasi faltered as vicious winds buffeted the non-streamlined body of Aer-Currum. Avid whistled, but his signal attempt was ripped away from the panicked Pegasi. The chariot begun an unsettling descent. Avid griped the reins between his teeth. Ripping himself free, he leapt overboard; clutching the yoke in a death grip. Quashing his fear, he released the mechanisms that attached the yoke to the axle. Unburdened, the Pegasi righted their flight-path. Avid tugged them back to solid ground, vowing never again. “I’m not an innovator… I’m a bleedin’ madman!”

Lady of Fool’s lake

foolHere’s one for Monday’s finish the story. Yes, I know. It’s friday. 🙂 That’s how long it took me to get all the humour orientated plots that I could not get to work out of my mind.  It seem that writing the haikus earlier forced my brain out of stubborn mode on what it wanted to write based on this prompt.

Dropping her line into Fool’s Lake, she patiently waited for something to bite.”

There was a legend about Fool’s lake. It was once Loch Caitlin; named for Caitlin GilleChrìost, her love for the Loch renowned. Count Calum’s marriage to Caitlin, whose origins were mysterious, had been met with titillation and ire. The woman remained a dutiful wife despite subtle intimidation by her peers; becoming an elegant hostess while she raised heirs. One eve of their anniversary Caitlin disappeared and the bodies of Calum and a servant were found in his chamber. When her gown was fished out of the Loch it was assumed she had drowned out of grief. Caitlin was labelled the Fool by those responsible for her despair.

Sandra Gilchrist, alone, knew the real story of Caitlin. She waited for her brethren, the Selkies, to claim her as they had reclaimed her ancestor. For now, she fished.

Abduction

danger

I wrote! Woohoo.  Sick feeling, you have lost! Bwhahahaha.  Prompts for this one have been borrowed from Adrian Lilly. If you are inspired by them please write your own fic.

It’s #MayhemMonday, and, you need to think quickly!

You’re riding your bike when you see someone nab a child into a van.

What do you do?

Mid-afternoon on a blazing summers’ day. Gah, why was the world shifting of it’s own accord? The water bottle was now completely drained. Not a lukewarm droplet to spare… Maybe a ride around the block hadn’t been wise when the bikes plastic seat had become so hot that leather stuck uncomfortably to private places. It was taking a brief rest in the shade of a tree that I first noted the van. It was nondescript; black with the look off having sat around one too many construction sites. The vehicle was pulled up too the curb. A dishevelled man was talking to a blonde child of, maybe, five years. The scene didn’t look right. What was it one the news this morning? The story about the child abductions? “Shit!” The bastard was offering her something. Pedals in motion, the bike sped towards the girl. A few seconds later I was around the corner with the little cherub screaming blue bloody murder in a deafened ear. A safe distance later 000 was called. Several nasty bites and half an hour later, blazing blue sirens appeared and she was safe. But something wasn’t right as the coppers pulled up. There was the cautious approach, then -Wham- dirt in my mouth.

?” There of cold steel against my wrists. The copper pulled back. Clear as day the kid was sobbing the arms of her abductor!

Please feel free to leave comments, constructive crit ect.

Should have gone with pop-rock

on-on-offAnother combo prompt from me.  It’s like one writing prompt isn’t enough! 😀 The quote has been nicked from Adrian Lilly and photo prompt is from Rochelle, host of Friday Fictioneers.

Your character is very tired and the normally quiet neighbor is playing really loud music. Does your character go over to ask to turn the music down? What does s/he find if s/he does. If s/he tries to ignore it, how?

Should have gone with Pop-rock

Irene slammed her textbook against the wall. This was a clear violation of the rules. She was studying! The bastard’s heavy-metal was making the wall vibrate so hard her laptop skated off the desk. She imagined bursting in, yanking the cords and drenching the electrics. Irene bit her lip; since when was he the type to listen to this… this… RUBBISH. On cue the music got louder. Irene clapped hands over her ears, and marched to his door; now fully prepared to garotte the imbecile with his own electrical cords. Irene shoved his door open to discover he was… Crying?!

Tenacious: know when to quit.

model

This one one was inspired by Visdare. I must say, I am making excellent progress on my procrastination skills here. This is not my novel!

Tenacious: know when to quit.

It was another job; another day.  The model had lost track of the shoots he’d been involved in.  He lived in the now and today’s location was an alley just off high street. Today’s theme: street fight.

“We need you right here.” The model dropped onto the rain soaked ground with no protest. Water immediately soaked through his pants.

“Good, can you raise your shoulders a bit more? That’s perfect!” There was that back twinge again.

“Look up to the right…Perfect!” Now the twinge was in his neck.

“Hold it! Why is there a God-damn hot dog vendor in my shoot?” !@$%ing !%?!

It took a full 15 minutes for the staff to get the scene back in order, but the model held his pose. He could no longer feel anything.

Where there’s smoke there’s fire

house

This time the prompt has been borrowed from Five sentence fiction.

Where there’s smoke there’s fire.

The house stood still, lines still beautiful despite the time it had stood abandoned; uncared for by time or man.

Disrepair was predominate; for the longest time no one dared set foot inside the place where tales of ghouls and ghost abound.

Abandoned and far from a watchful eye, it became a den; littered with scavenged furniture – chairs, rugs and a mattress that was spare.

The site was chaos – cans, wrappers and stains that shouted of the wild abandon that came with youth; complete with sounds that could wake the dead.

The owner stirred from his coffin; it was his turn to engage in unruly abandon now.

Desire.

portalDesire was inspired by this photo prompt provided for Picture it and write. I’m surprised by how it turned out as I feel like I’ve been hit by a sack full of sleep sand.  Lack of sleep doesn’t usually bode well for coherent writing.  I also have a bone to pick with the article I reblogged the other day regarding the benefits of reading, specifically the point on insomnia.  I was up till 5 in the morning reading, damn it!  I guess it was my own fault for not being able to put the book down.  Oh well, enough rambling here’s – Desire.

Ashley considered the portal with a measured gaze. Her partner, Weliin stood behind her; strong, elegant limbs pulling Ashley into a desperate embrace. “Don’t go…” He pleaded, warm breath stroking her ear. “I can’t stay.” She stated, tone devoid of remorse. “Don’t you love it here?” he asked, tone a curious mixture of despair and seduction. Another time she would have melted. “I do.”

“Then why?!”

“There’s something missing; something important.” Ashley’s tone was even. She may well have declared the sky was blue, for all the emotion she displayed. Weliin, on the other hand, only grew more desperate in the face of her imperturbability. “What, by gods, could that be?!” His grip on Ashley tightened. “There’s magic here!” Ashley nodded causally. “There’s dragons! Griffons! Mermaids! Elves! Are you telling me you can leave these wonders behind for your grey world?!” Ashley’s response was a simple nod. She felt dampness on her cheeks, and without averting her gaze from the portal, she wiped his tears. “What about me? I love you…” Ashley felt some of her resolution waning at his words. She tilted her head to take his stricken gaze head on and felt her resolve weaken as his fine elvin features come into view. Weliin was still gorgeous; symmetrical features unaffected by tears and grot, blue eyes contrasting with red rimmed lids. “I know,” Ashley replied, cupping his cheek, “and I love you.” Then with one last kiss she pulled from his embrace, striding towards the portal. “But I still must go.” She heard him fall to ground behind her and grappled with the urge to turn back. No, I must leave. Coffee was waiting.

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