Writing Prompt: A Snapshot

This week, take a snapshot with words. Describe one moment of a scene, a moment of life-or-death decision making, a moment of love.

Write the start of a scene, or the middle, or the end. Write it several ways, with several narrators, no narrator.

Write a moment of character action. Write several moments of character action.

Or use the prompt to record a memory of a general time. That's what I'll be using the prompt for this week, to practice writing about this ephemeral time in my life that I'd very much like to hold on to.

Send me your snapshot, let me know if it blossoms into something larger.

--Stephanie

 

 

 

 

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Writing Prompt: Train of Thought/Stream of Consciousness

This week's prompt: write a character's internal monologue (or dialogue!)/train of thought. I'll be practicing this with punctuation this week, then attempting true stream of consciousness a bit later, if I can force myself to work at it. Never shrink from a challenge, right? I've always found it particularly difficult to hit the right balance of writing text that stays relevant to the topic/situation at hand and also feels like unrestrained thought progression. Disclaimer: It's my least favorite writing to read as well (see Tristram Shandy). My attention wanders away too easily without the structuring boundaries of punctuation and paragraph. In need of more practice, practice, practice!

On a related note, shout out to Henry Fielding for instructing his readers to take a break now & then. Joseph Andrews is one of my faves, a good read for a nice, long summer vacation. If you find yourself with a case of insomnia, Tristram Shandy is actually quite entertaining.

 

If this prompt isn't providing much inspiration today, check out my other prompts here

 

 

Writing Prompt: First Mode of Transportation

Her plastic car was scraped and scuffed along every side and every corner. The sun had faded the top of its yellow roof and scorched the red door handles. This was the plastic car who could. It was scrappy. It had survived the great traffic incident of 1992, when her cousin collided head-on with his sister's bicycle and bounced into their mother's car. This collision left the driver's side door streaked with white paint and the front bumper forever dented above the painted-on headlights. This guy had survived years with her cousins and was now finally hers! She couldn't believe her good luck. She raced around the driveway, scooting along, Fred Flintstone-style, feeling the breeze in her hair and the sun on her arms. Suddenly the car lurched to a stop. She exclaimed in confusion and discomfort--her right foot had pushed off with more force than her left foot was prepared for--and now it was caught under her plastic car seat. She wiggled this way and that, but she was stuck. No mistaking it. She pouted as she realized how long she'd have to wait for assistance. Her mom was all the way at the bottom of the drive! She was running up, but by the time she got to little miss, she could have circled the playhouse three times! She may have to let the bad guys escape this time, but next time, she'll be on to them...

 

Revising: Character

Describe the physical appearance of a character.

He ducked his head when entering the room--any room--out of habit. If he were standing straight, his 6-foot-8-inch frame would tower over his wife's by more than a foot. His salt-and-pepper hair seemed out of place with His youthful face seemed too youthful to be paired with his rapidly graying hair. Aside from deep laugh lines and crow's feet, the signs of a life well-lived, the fifty-four-year-old was nearly wrinkle-free. He had lively, dark brown eyes, which peeked peeking out from under rather bushy and unruly eyebrows. His wife was constantly trying to convince him that she should trim them up a bit, but he refused. They chaos clashed with his eternally, meticulously clean-shaven face. But he didn't mind in the least. He wore dark cargo shorts and an old gray tee shirt, that advertiseding a 5k race from 1998. That it still fit was a testament to the healthy form he maintained. Lean muscles begged to be set free in activity. His was not a body meant to creep and crouch, he it was built for the expansive outdoors.