Day 87 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: A Character is Completely Alone in a Huge Place.

Erin: I’ve always had thing about crowds making me feel smothered. When I have over ten people surrounding me I just feel like the world is caving in. One of the worst places for me to go is my hometown supermarket. There is only one place to get groceries in our town, so it is the most hopping place to be after work lets out. That’s why I never go at that time I go when the store is about to close.

This method worked well for me for the longest time. That was until I stayed in the chip isle for too long one night and the only worker left didn’t realize I was there. In her defense, I did walk to the store, so an empty parking lot was probably normally a sign of quitting time.

As I traipsed up and down the aisle, realizing I had unlimited supper options, a feeling suddenly hit me: this supermarket I had come to think of as crushingly small, was actually terrifyingly big.

Shannon: The baseball stadium was my second home. My dad owned the minor league team, so I got used to hanging out here when I was little whether I wanted to or not. However, most of the time I was the one who could never get my fill of time in my favorite place in the world. I mean how many kids can say they took batting practice on a professional field? Everything was grander in the stadium. Not to mention there was a different adventure with each new activity and feature they tested out.

Now that I’m little older, my new favorite way to past time involves hanging out in the stadium on off days when all the work is done and everyone goes home. I find a new place to explore everyday. Today I went up to announcers stand, and narrated an imaginary play-by-play as I messed with the sound effects. Then I started announcing the batting order after playing each of their walk-up songs. I didn’t have the typical commanding voice, but since I was alone, it was good enough for me. “It’s a home run, the Wombats win, the Wombats win,” I jumped out of my seat to over react. I always wanted to know it felt to be in the box during an unexpected win, this was as close as I’d ever get.

How does your character react when left alone?

Day 86 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write the story of these pictures.

Shannon: They put me in this delicate white dress. The top was shaped together with an overlay of lace to add intricate detail to a simple bodice that was already built to flatter my figure.  The skirt was a waterfall of fabric, each piece draping gracefully over another. To top it off my makeup was a flawless clearing of every imperfection.

I looked in the mirror as they worked on my hair. “You could win. You made it this far, and it’s a great scholarship prize. You must be excited,” my hairstylist commented. “I never thought I’d see a newbie get this far.”

“Yeah, this is kind of a crazy competition, but I could use the money,” I tried to believe what I was saying, but I didn’t actually want to win. I was not the kind of person who got all dolled up like this for anything, especially not to win money, or gain approval from other people. Would winning mean my motivations were no different from any of the girls here, or would I just be smart for giving in to what the world wanted from me?

As I was walking to get in line to go on stage I caught sight of some movement outside. Maybe because that was where I really wanted to be. Either way, I was surprised as I focused my vision on a baby deer peaking inside. My parents owned some woods behind our house, and I was fascinated by nature. Even more fascinated when the nature took interest in humans. Then I did something stupid. I went after it, not forgetting about the competition, but instead I was just blowing it off.

I wanted to care. I wanted to turn myself around, but the deer still wasn’t running, and I felt no guilt. I opened the door slowly enough for it to back away, but it didn’t bolt immediately. I tried to reach out for it, but it flinched and started slowly walking back into the wooded area it came from. I followed, as if the silent creature was guiding me like a dog.

The bottom of my skirt was turning brown from the dirt path, so I started carrying it. I felt like Cinderella running from the ball. Finally the deer stopped by a large rock and just stared. “Creepy,” I whispered, but figured it wanted me to find something so I looked around, a little afraid of what I might find.

Suddenly I saw a patch of white underneath some tall grass and leaves. As I reached down to pick it up I discovered it was journal, and that the handwriting was still legible. When I looked up the deer was gone.

Erin: “What is this,” my fiancée asked stealing away my manuscript.

“A story,” I said vaguely.

“About what,” he continued to prod.

“A wedding in the woods,” I offered.

“What’s the conflict,” he refused to take my simple answer.

“The deer are trying to convince the princess she deserves better than the man she is marrying,” I ripped the pages back and looked down to my desk.

“Does she still marry him,” he asked.

“They leave the woods, because the support from the community is nonexistent. Once she gets far enough away though she realizes her feelings are not dictated by the community, but she genuinely feels she can do better as well,” I cleared my throat before looking at him. His expression had sank.

How will these pictures fit together for you?

Day 85 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about an animal family.

Erin: “I want to be alpha,” Luna declared and the group burst into laughter.

“Females have never been an alpha in our pack,” Kenite spat.

“Yeah, girls aren’t strong enough,” Freebie echoed in his preposterous tone.

“This exercise is about dreams not plans,” our professor barked. “Her answer is valid even if Women are not alphas of our pack.”

“I don’t care if Women are alphas of our pack,” Luna’s scream overtook the group and silenced them. “What I care about is if I Luna Camay Dinger will be alpha. That’s the answer that matters.” She ran off to who knows where and left the rest of the wolves curious for the answer as well.

Shannon: “Piper still can’t fly,” Dax teased, “Maybe she’s not actually a bird.”

“Shut up,” Piper broke herself free from under her brother’s mocking wing.

“It’s okay if you never learn. You can always stay in the nest with mom for the rest of your life,” he laughed.

“Don’t listen to him. You’re fine,” Willow argued, following after her. “You’ll get it eventually. Don’t worry if it takes you a little longer. Just keeping working on it.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know Dax is a jerk,” Piper grumbled.

“Dax is a winner,” Dax spoke in a manly tone, and his sisters gave him a disgusted look. “Whatever. You two are lame. I’m going to go out and be independent and do whatever the heck I want, because I can. See you losers later, or not.” He puffed his feathers proudly before hoping out of the tree and sloppily flopping his wing until caught a stride.

“He’s not the most gracefully flyer,” Willow observed.

“But he’s right. At least he’s flying. I can’t even let myself jump,” she hung her head. “I hate being last. It makes me feel like there is something wrong with me.”

“Who cares about first? Be better. Learn to enjoy it, because it’s a lot of fun when it’s effortless. I sense that you’ll be effortless,” she lovingly bumped heads with her sister.

“I hope your right,” Piper took in a deep breath.

“I know I am,” Willow stated with confidence, as she stood up a little taller.

Try incorporating less people and more animals into your writing.

Day 84 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write a story starting with the end and working towards the beginning.

Shannon: Have you ever gotten to a point in your life where you had to ask yourself what dumb decision lead me here? Well, I’m going through one of these moments at the time as I’m stuck dangling from a tree branch.

Okay so running up the tree to get away from a bull wasn’t one of my most well thought out ideas. Neither was participating in this bull race in the first place, but sometimes I do these things to remind myself that I’m still alive and that I still have some fight in me to survive.

I have these moments where I question things and let all that doubt pile so I have to carry it with me. Maybe deep down I like the added weight. The last straw was when my girlfriend of two years decided we needed to break up. A few months before that, my best friend revealed he was taking a job in another country. It’s his dream career, but all I heard was that he was leaving me behind.

Still, the first tragedy in the trifecta was the hardest to bear. My dad died and my world went dull, nothing could make me stop missing him. I keep thinking about how the day before I had no clue what life had in store for me.

Erin: There was a bright light and I was brought to life.

A truck drove away from our car.

We sang our hearts out to the radio that was playing our song.

We turned off the radio.

We got out of the car.

Ben insisted, “I’m alright to drive.”

We entered the bar.

I paid the tab, rounding up significantly to avoid being cheap on the tip due to my impaired math abilities.

I watched as he started with his 15^th drink.

As he got closer and closer to his first drink we discussed how he lost his job.

We left the bar hoping to make life a little more bearable.

Try to turn one of your stories on it’s head.

Day 83 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a team.

Erin: Our work team was a well-oiled machine. We had the jokester who kept things funny. The serious one made sure we didn’t have too much fun. There was the one who made sure we all go things done. The nice one calmed us all if people got too demanding. There were the creatives and the realistics. There were the productives and the perfectionists. We had good times and bad. However we continued to initiate growth and innovation.

Shannon: “You going to get this. One of you is going to make contact with this damn ball if kills me,” I yelled from the pitchers mound as Sandy tried to walk away from the plate.

“It’s pointless. We can’t learn this before the season starts. We were trained to use our bodies for movement, not to chase around balls, and throw them, and catch them, and hit them with tiny metal sticks,” Sandy threw the bat down in frustration.

“I’m with her,” Jessica added. “This is dangerous. They’re called softballs but they’re not soft. They really hurt. I’m covered in bruises and I feel really attacked every time we practice. I thought this was going to be fun.”

“You promised that if I helped your dance team, you’d all save the softball team. Don’t worry about getting hurt. I’ve gotten you all masks, even for fielding. Also if you actually tried, and stop being so afraid of the ball maybe you wouldn’t get hit so many times. You’re your own first defense,” I argued back.

“Agh,” they all moaned dramatically.

I rolled my eyes. “Come on Lucy. You’re up.” Being a coach was harder than I thought, I really should have given my dad more credit when I was younger. Once she was in position I decided to take a different approach. “How about this time you just do whatever feels natural to you. Don’t think about any of the advice I told you before. You can do this.”

I pitched the ball and I saw her make contact, but then I also saw her bat go flying to third base.”

“Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry,” she put up both hands to cover her mouth and nose. I had flashbacks to t-ball all over again.

“You’re going to tell me that’s not dangerous.” Jessica pointed to where the bat ended up and the rest of the team started cracking up.

Decide what type of team will get your story where it needs to go.

Day 82 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about the effects of a spreading gas.

Shannon: They released the gas into the air and we were advised to remain calm by the voice coming through the speakers. The voice promised the gas could not hurt us, and then explained they were only testing the effect the chemicals had on everyone in the room.

I heard stories from my older sibling that this test was the ultimate determining factor in where students were placed. They claimed that all the other tasks we had to do were just for show, and to keep us distracted from the chamber test. They’d come to the conclusion that this test was purely based on nature, and nothing you could do could change the outcome for yourself.

I was nervous about what effect the gas would have on me, but finally I’d know what I was made of. I would see what makes me unique, so I let the gas envelope ever inch of me without a fight.

Once I had a heavy dose in my lungs and there was so much smoke surrounding me I couldn’t see the person next to me, I waited for something strange to happen. Yet I didn’t feel different, and when I looked down nothing had changed. “James,” I called out to my friend who was originally standing next to me.

I didn’t know if he was still there, but he spoke up quickly, “Yeah, I’m right here,” he was close and eventually appeared in front of me. However, he was a different color now. There was a faded glow inside his chest, almost looking as if heart had turned into a light. The glow was illuminating his green skin, clothes, and hair. As the gas started to clear up everyone was revealed. They were all a color. Some were different, some had strange mixtures, and some were repeated.”

“Do you see people as different colors? Are they glowing? What color am I,” I bombarded James with questions.

“You see auras,” James concluded with a smile. He’d always been a bit of bookworm, so he’d done a lot of research beforehand. Of course he would already know what I was. “I don’t see colors,” he sounded a little disappointed. “I think I’m seeing weaknesses.”

Erin: Ever since these rainbow gasses have overtaken our city no one can seem to stop smiling. Because that seems like a good thing no one is questioning the phenomenon. I am though. I know that where there is people pretending everything is happy, there is people avoiding a harder truth. As I traced the start of the smoke to the capital I was determined to find out what that truth was.

Write about something your characters can’t escape.

Day 81 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a contract.

Erin: As frank’s personal chef I hereby agree to the following terms:

• Vegetables are to be only prepped in forms that are crunchy and/or crispy
• The only food that is acceptable to be heated to a temperature capable of tongue burning is soup
• When frank cries mac and cheese should be made immediately
• All meats should be cooked completely
• Desert should always be served on Sundays
• Water should be served with lemon

Shannon: In order to amend this broken friendship, I agree to the following terms under signature. Should I break this contract, the validity of my signature will be tarnished for eternity:

1. I will never again pretend my friends do not exist because I decide “I can do better”.
2. I promise to never humiliate any of my friends in public to impress jerks, or anyone for that matter.
3. I will go back to my old lunch table, but before sitting I will always asks for permission and will abide by the group vote until trust has been restored.
4. I will start hanging out with my friends outside of school again because I realize they are the coolest people I know, and I really miss them.

We promised to write every day, what did your character promise.

Day 80 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about two worlds colliding.

Shannon: “You’ve been messing with the book again, haven’t you,” my brother stormed up to me with pure rage in his eyes as he slammed the leather manuscript folder down on the table in front of me.

“I think we should meet them. I know you tried to trap them because you were afraid of what they could do, but I think they could help us. Maybe even save us,” I defended my actions.

“You don’t know what you’ve done. You’ve really screwed up this time, and if you don’t tell me where you hid the typewriter everyone is in danger.” He didn’t doubt his belief for a second. “I’m sending them back.”

“I’m not telling you where it is,” I shook my head, and I, on the other hand, absolutely doubted whether or not I was making the right decision. “And if you’re scared you should go, because they’ll be here soon.”

“Here,” he spoke as if he had gotten the wind knocked out of him, “Now?”

I nodded, starting to feel a little bad.

“I can’t leave you alone with them,” it pained him to say it, but he wasn’t going anywhere.

“You told me yourself that you weren’t trying to create monsters. You know what they are. You know their purpose. They just need to be understood,” I explained.

He breathed out and I could tell he was processing the idea, until a scream from outside distracted both of us. “They’re here,” he raised an eyebrow, showing a spark of confidence.

Erin: “Back in your grandma’s day there was a large wall. The elected had created the barrier many, many years before even I was born. The bricks served to separate the elite from the undesirables. The day of sorting came not long after we could talk. Unsurprisingly, with the sorting came separation from family members and homes. Those who lost their own in the sorting ceremony would be expected to take in the other separated.

The east was for the people who were charismatic, outgoing, and constantly wanted to be surrounded by people. The west was for those of us who would spend more time alone, and could speed too much time thinking and not enough talking.

It didn’t take long for the East’s infrastructure to wear down. By pressing an ear to the wall, you could hear the pulse of the others. There rumbling must have been the cause for the demise of their buildings, The sound of them through the brick could still drown out us in the west. While our government and city became more and more organized and effective, all of our bars had closed down and there could be a tendency for many to lose sight of a work life balance.

It wasn’t until the wall collapsed that we learned the beauty of the others. My mother was an east resident. When we met she talked for days and I listened. When she was fully finished, I gave her my observations of the great separation and she listened. Our societies brought art and ideas to each other that beautified both of our lands.

The sorting was a terrible idea. Most of us that grew up in the time can agree on that much. There was one good thing that came of the experience though. The easterners did realize the equality of the westerners. We may not always be as flashy, but they need us just as much as we need them.”

Put some different things together and see what happens.

Day 79 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about what a character did to be immortalized in some way.

Erin: Here stands the gumball sculpture of dear Mrs. Lancer. She was an inspiration to us all. More than an art teacher, she was a challenge. Mrs. L pushed us into trying different mediums and different themes. Her moving on to bigger and better thing only inspired us to do the same. This piece of art serves to honor her and inspire those who have not had the pleasure of studying under her teaching.

Shannon: “Mom where did you get that? It’s beautiful,” My teenage daughter questioned, sneaking up on me, something she was very good at.

I figured she was old enough to hear the truth. “A friend painted it for me when were both about your age.”

“What,” she was in shock. “Why have I never seen it before? How is this hiding in the attic, it should be in a place where everyone can see it. Does she still paint? She’s amazing,” she gawked from over my shoulder, already getting herself a little worked up over it.

“I’m sure she would if she could. She passed away the same year she made it. She had cancer, and I was so afraid of destroying it, so I’ve hid it to keep it safe ever since her death,” I looked at the cardboard casing, and then back to Cecilia to make sure she wasn’t upset.

“I’m sorry mom. I didn’t know,” the tone in her voice revealed she wasn’t expecting that answer.

“If she knew where I’ve keeping it she’d be so upset too. The whole point of her art was so that she could make her mark on this world with the little time she had left. She said she’d live forever on her friends’ walls, and then they could pass it down to their children, and continue to passed down until there was nothing left but a blank scrap,” I smiled as I was transported back to that moment.

“She sounds like she knew what she was talking about,” Cecilia spoke up after a short silence.

“I guess she did,” I smiled.

Writing someone can immortalize them, but how about you write about another way someone can be immortalized.

Day 78 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Your character is reunited with a childhood neighbor years after the family moved away.

Shannon: “Abigail,” a guy I didn’t recognize stood in front of me with a questioning look.

“Yes,” I nodded, not sure how he knew my name.

“I thought so, you still look so much like you did when we were kids. Do you recognize me?”

He gave me a familiar goofy face and suddenly it hit me, “Daniel? No way,” I exclaimed a little too loud for being in a library, and I immediately regretted the slip-up as I looked around at the annoyed faces.

He laughed, “You want to go outside, so we can actually talk.”

“Good idea,” I nodded and we headed to park bench outside the building. Once we sat down I couldn’t hold in my curiosity any longer, “So are you going to school here now, or are you just visiting someone?”

“I’m a student. I transferred here for my second year, because I change my major to Film Production, and the program here is amazing. What’s your major?”

“Fashion and Apparel Design. I always knew you’d want to do something with videos. Remember when you used to film those home videos and make me and my siblings act in them? That was so much fun,” I smiled, reminiscing.

“How could I forget, and you always wanted full control over putting together the costumes. You’re major is perfect for you too. Also, I still have those videos by the way,” he raised his eyebrows.

“Noooo,” I half-giggled, half-moaned. “Never show them to anyone please,” I begged.

“Too late, but they’re not as bad as you think, and admit that you’re a little curious. Even if watching involves a little torture,” he pinched his fingers together.

I rolled my eyes. He still had the same persuasive gift that he could always use against me in the past. “Ok, a little. And I’m even more interested in what you’ve done since then. I imagine the videos didn’t end when you moved.”

“Not a chance, so I guess we’ve got a lot a catching up to do this year. That is if you’re not just humoring me right now,” he shrugged.

“No, that would be great,” I agreed.

Erin: “Kat is that you,” I hear a random woman’s voice that sounded overly excited.

I turned around and my brain took a second to process what I was seeing. “DG,” I said once I realized the little girl hidden under the woman I was looking at.

“Yes, it’s been forever. Are you in the intern program too,” she was practically squealing. The little fireball I knew was not stolen from her with age.

“Yes,” I stammered not knowing what to say to someone who was such a big part of my childhood but then disappeared out of nowhere.

“It’s been too long, we’re going out. But first I have this meeting,” she ran off. And we did. She moved out at 10, but 10 years later it was like nothing had changed. We shaped each other’s childhood and we would shape each other’s adulthood. We learned our lesson, ten years of distance didn’t have to mean we couldn’t be neighbors. Closeness had nothing to do with miles, and we never forgot that.

Reuniting your characters could be fun?