Monica’s Prompt for me: Janice Lee once said, “Draw a monster. Why is it a monster?” I challenge you to play off this idea. Write a monster. Why is it a monster?
The minute I saw this I knew what I wanted to do: I wanted to use this prompt as an opportunity to expand my knowledge about the novel I’ve been writing for… oh, let’s say.. AN ETERNITY.
So something you need to know before reading it: The monsters in my novel are the kind of monsters you find under your bed or in your closet. They are the imaginary friends you played with as a kind only more fearsome.
And… that’s all I will tell you so far. And this story might not make sense to anyone but Monica, I realize… Which is why I won’t advertise its existence, really. In a way, Monica, I wrote this story just for you. xD
Sitting patiently outside of her therapist’s office is Molly Harper, age seven and a half. Even though a door divides herself from her parents and Miss Mae, she still hears the words being spoken on the other side. She is listening even though she is supposed to be working on her Hello Kitty coloring book. But even though the smiling face of Hello Kitty still needs to be colored, Molly has other priorities.
How is that known?
Because drawn around pictures of cats wearing bows and tutus, you will see a drawing that is almost too good more any young artist to create. Continue reading
So when I saw Monica’s prompt, I panicked just a little.
” Since you have to post on the 15th and it is February, you must write about a Valentine’s Day hangover. Now you can take this literally or metaphorically – it’s up to you – but the fact that it’s the day after Valentine’s Day must be a main factor. Have fun!”
For starters, I’m normally a big fan of Valentine’s Day because I literally love love. I really do. It makes me happy. But Valentine’s Day for me is just another day to express my love. I love my husband 365 days of the year and try to tell him that all the time. (And he does the same for me.) So for me to write about the day after V-day, it stumped me. When I think V-day hangover, I think of something not awesome. (Anyone who says hangovers are awesome have never had one.) So the REAL challenge for me was putting myself in the mind of someone who hated V-day. This story is the result of such thinking.
This isn’t exactly my typical writing, so bear with me if it’s a bit odd sounding.
Screw Valentine’s Day– A Story by David J. Jenkins, self proclaimed hater of Valentine’s Day
Screw Valentine’s Day.
That’s right. I said it. Screw it.
Whoever thought it would be a good idea to celebrate a dead guy’s martyrdom with handing out chocolates is one sick son of a monkey. I mean, come on. Do we celebrate Abraham Lincoln’s death with chocolate and pretty, decorated hearts?
No. We don’t. Continue reading
Okay, Radishes. For starters, HAPPY NEW YEAR!!
Here was my prompt (that I kinda sorta followed?):
I took this prompt and wrote the story, then REWROTE it with a partially true story. (Hint: Look for the crazy manager in the story.) I’m a big fan of starting characters off at their lowest and then bringing them back into a happier light. I’m pretty pleased with this story even if it does sound a bit “rantish.”
Also, it is very true that if you cross a writer, you end up in their stories. BE YE WARNED.
The Mistake Girl
It all started when Rikki walked into Starbucks for her morning shift. Unlike the past four mornings that she’d woken up, today felt different. Hopeful, almost.
That was her first mistake.
Hope turned into dread as she realized who her morning crew consisted of that morning. Tiffany, the girl who claimed to know all the ins and outs of the place, stood at the register, her phone discreetly placed under the counter so no one of importance could see it. Brandon, a silent fellow with a devil’s glare scrubbed furiously at the espresso machine. It seemed like he was always cleaning what didn’t need to be cleaned. Lyle, Lara, Britt, Jessi, and Cara—all people that Rikki enjoyed working with—worked the night shift.
And then there was Dorothy.
When Rikki had first started working there, she was warned that she shouldn’t let the sweet sounding name fool her. Dorothy was the wicked witch and she was out to steal Toto (AKA your happiness). She was the meanest of the three managers and you always had to watch your step around her. One minute she’d offer you a smile and the next she was a raging ball of hormones bouncing around in a human shell. Continue reading
This is the last short story for me for 2013!! Come 2014, SaM will be filled with more of mine and “M’s” shorts. Be looking forward to it!
This short story is… as per the holiday season… CHRISTMAS THEMED!! I adore Christmas. It fills me up with gingerbread goodness and makes the happiness ooze out of me. I can’t get enough of it, honestly.
The prompt we ran with write a story that begins with: “Off in the distance, I hear the sound of sleigh bells” I REEEEEEEEEEEALLY enjoyed this prompt and I hope you guys enjoy what I pulled out of my brain.
(If there are formatting errors of silly typos, I apologize as my word processor is currently MIA.)
Enjoy everyone and HAVE A MERRY CHRISTMAS.
Disclaimer: This is just a simple Christmas story about a bah humbug with bah humbug parents. There is no connection to my Christmases past. (Love ya, parents!)
And as always, stay radish, guys.
Off in the distance, I hear the sound of sleigh bells. That’s the sort of thing you’ll hear inside the mall on December 24th. There’s also the sound of mothers screaming at their kids as they pull them along, leaving the wondrous toy store behind them. Occasionally, you’ll hear the generic teenager running over to the Starbucks I work at explaining to her friends that she needs her daily “coffee fix” right before she orders a caramel frappachino with extra caramel.
I remember a time when Christmas excited me. Before my parents divorced, Christmas was the one day out of the year where the fighting was set aside and peace became the new focus. Even my older brother stopped his almost constant alcohol intake to enjoy a Christmas turkey. I’d give and get gifts and there wouldn’t be a frown in sight.
And each year I made the same wish: Let this never end. Continue reading
Christina Harris usually loves writing full-length romance and fantasy novels, but she was glad to take a challenge from SaM for a short story. She has written and self-published two full length novels, Water Burn and Stolen Soul, under the name Christina J. Reyenga.
Trouble in Paradise
There it was. Our island. It was planted somewhere in the Indian Ocean. The fog surrounds it in wisps of fantasy as we approach by air. We are sure this place will make all of our dreams come true. We’d gotten a great deal on it. It had cost us five dollars to purchase. At first we’d thought it was a joke, but then the owner explained his wife had passed away from her battle with cancer on the island and the memories there had been too horrible to bear. So we took him up on it. The island being practically free meant all of our money could be spent on turning this place into paradise. My husband, Ted, and I plan to open a resort here, but first we want to scout out the terrain and get a feel for what we need to do. The plane lands on the little strip cleared by the previous owner and the pilot, Paul, helps us unload our bags.
“I’ll return to pick you up tomorrow morning,” he says. “Meet me in this place.” Continue reading
This is our first guest post from Hannah Bielicki. Not only is she my(Sarah) little sister, she is a Doctor Who fanatic that could probably kick your butt at whovian trivia.
The Story of Stonehenge
All her brain could think about was sleep, but her body refused to cooperate. It didn’t help that the crowded tour bus kept bumping and screeching. How anybody actually slept was beyond her knowledge. The ride became smoother as they went on, either that or she was just used to the bumps and squeals, and her eyes were closing steadily as they passed one building and another. The lure of sleep had almost won… Continue reading
Sarah’s Prompt: In the spirit of our love of the slightly strange, I think you’re going to have fun with this one. I’m actually a little jealous of you! =)
I had five different plots for this picture running in my head.
This is the one I decided on.
The Axe Girl
Dear whoever is in charge of where my soul goes when I die,
I never believed that Colin Graves stopped loving me. Not even for a second.
Not even when a red nail polish wearing, dark brown hair sporting, scantily clad she-devil named Tera Videl showed up in class one day with her arms wrapped around his waist. Even when Colin leaned down to kiss her with the only lips I’d ever known I knew it was me he’d rather be kissing. Even when Colin announced in front of the class that it was he who would get to be the lucky guy to take Tara to the prom.
I didn’t fall for it. Not even for a second.
The only thing I’m guilty of is not seeing how much of a devil Tera actually was.
Scratch that. I’m guilty of one more thing. Continue reading