Tag: creative writing

Inspiration Monday: Undercover Friend

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Well Voice Week was a ton of fun, as usual! I don’t know about you, but I think I’m still recovering. So let’s save the recap for tomorrow.

Meanwhile, it was a quiet two InMon weeks due of course to the aforementioned, but these pieces are well worth reading:

Imaginator

Steve (missed him last week!)

Evan

Tara

SAM

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Inspiration Monday logo

The Rules

There are none. Read the prompts, get inspired, write something. No word count minimum or maximum. You don’t have to include the exact prompt in your piece, and you can interpret the prompt(s) any way you like.

OR

No really; I need rules!

Okay; write 200-500 words on the prompt of your choice. You may either use the prompt as the title of your piece or work it into the body of your piece. You must complete it before 6 pm CST on the Monday following this post.

The Prompts:

UNDERCOVER FRIEND

FUTUREKIND

STORY VORTEX

DIMENSIONALLY CHALLENGED

UNLIVING

Want to share your Inspiration Monday piece? Post it on your blog and then give me the link in the comments below (I’ll also love you more if you link back to me); I’ll include a link to your piece in the next Inspiration Monday post. No blog? Email your piece to me at stephanie (at) bekindrewrite (dot) com. (I do reserve the right to NOT link to a piece as stated in my Link Discretion Policy.)

Plus, get the InMon badge for your site here.

Happy writing!

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The End of the World: Friday

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Rounding out the week. Happy Friday, everyone!

Catch up on Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday.

Voice Week 2014 Friday

It started in a way I didn’t expect. I guess no one did. At first, it seemed like some dark cosmic joke. We had just enough time to realize we didn’t have time. There wouldn’t be any save-the-planet mission. No watching the news, holding our breath to find out if we’d survive. Just time to come to terms with it. Like we were all terminal cancer patients, or death row inmates. But I realized, sitting in an old church more crowded than I’d ever seen it—the timing was perfect. It was a last chance, a now-or-never. When we’d each have to decide, once and for all, whether or not to be saved.

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What’s your verdict on voice #5?

The End of the World: Thursday

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In the words of Arthur Dent, It must be Thursday. I never could get the hang of Thursdays.

And in the words of Ford Prefect, Drink up; the world’s about to end.

Catch up on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday.

Voice Week 2014 Thursday The End of the World

This can’t be it. No freaking way. I ain’t saying goodbye cruel world over a little chill. We ain’t been through two world wars and an ice age and God knows what else just to lay down and die like that’s all she wrote, ‘cause the sun’s taking a breather. I mean, suck it up. Drag your sorry behind outa bed and zip up your coat. Zip your trap while you’re at it. It’s gonna take a lot more ‘n Jack Frost to put me six feet under.

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Well, what kind of a person do you think this is?

The End of the World: Wednesday

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Like I said, messing with perspectives a lot more this year.

Voice Week 2014 Wednesday

We’re just getting what we deserve. Did you really think that after all our greedy wars, reckless pollution, fanatic intolerance, that the universe would just forgive us? Look the other way? No, sir. Judgment’s raining down, and it’s raining down hard. No holy roller fire and brimstone, just cold, hard justice. The life gets sucked out of us, like we sucked the life out of our planet. It just got to us first. Mother Nature exterminates the human vermin.

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What does this voice tell you about the character?

The End of the World: Tuesday

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Voice deux! Read Monday.

Voice Week 2014 Tuesday

This is not the way I imagined it would end. I imagined howling throngs, and vast clouds of flame, and mere moments of intense pain before it was all over. Instead, Earth succumbs to a slow fading. But the delay did not buy mankind time to save itself, at least not time enough. We tried, oh, we debated and strategized, but the sky darkened and the frost bit while we talked and scribbled. We donned thicker coats and stuffed furniture in the stove and watched the stars reborn. The stars. I had forgotten how many there were. Or perhaps we never really knew. How perfectly ironic that in our final days, we should see so many wonders for the first time.

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What does this voice tell you about the character? How does it compare with the first voice?