Elizabeth: Friday Writing Sprints – It’s Party Time!

So you’ve made it to Friday?  That deserves a party.

Later today I’ll trading in my writing clothes for high-heels and an evening gown and heading off to my annual day-job “Gala” black-tie event.  It will be a working party, but there will be good food, dancing, and champagne to compensate.  What better way to kick things off than a party-themed installment of Random Word Improv?

Whether you wrote a lot, a little, or none at all this week, a few minutes of Improv are a great way to have a little fun and get some words on the page.  Feel free to put on some music and get up and dance to get in the “party” writing mood.  High-heels and evening gown are optional.

All right, let’s get started.  Here are this week’s “random” words.  Do with them what you will.

Today’s bonus word is:                  bacchanalia

Today’s bonus phrase is:              “the night is young”

Here are the rest of today’s randomly selected random words:

champagne              dance                    sequin                  photograph

perfume                     band                      sparkle                 celebrate

tuxedo                        darkness              balloons              strapless

For any of you new to Random Word Improv, here’s how to play:

  1. Pick as many words from the list as you want
  2. Write the first line(s) of a story incorporating your words
  3. Post your results in the comments section.

Okay.  Are you ready?  Go tell us a story!

*whistling aimlessly while you are off being creative*

You’re back.  Kind of fun, right?  Can’t wait to see what you have come up with.

9 thoughts on “Elizabeth: Friday Writing Sprints – It’s Party Time!

  1. Celebrating the new wine at a wine god’s bacchanalia was really the place to be on a cool November night, Olivia thought. The night was young, and the room was full of warm bodies, dancing to the band’s inspired Baroque Electronica. Jack had just texted her; he’d arrived by taxi, and she made her way through the crowd on the dance floor, inhaling perfume and cologne, beaujolais and hairspray. And there he was at the door, stunning in his tuxedo, absolutely timeless. She placed her hand in his outstretched one, and the din of the crowd only served to make her feel as though they were the only two people in the eye of a storm. A large woman in a sequined strapless gown bumped into them. “Why aren’t you dancing? You should be dancing!”

    So, they danced until midnight, when the balloons were released, and just the photographer’s flash blinded the crowd, the hall was cast into the darkness. There was a howling and screeching outside the doors, and the dread word, “maenad!” raced around the room with a doppler-like effect. Olivia and Jack raced to the front door, took up defensive positions on either side. Someone was looking for her husband, and the wine-god was a blubbering mess on his dais. The break-up of a marriage was tough even for mere mortals and their circle of friends; in the supernatural community, it could mean interspecies war.

    • Oh, that’s wonderful Michaeline. Would love to hear more about this “supernatural break-up” – sounds like there will be lots of excitement forthcoming.

      • (-: It was simply a function of if you start a scene with something happy, it’s got to go tragically down the tubes by the end of the scene, and vice versa. Where did we see that? McKee’s Story? Things were going too well. But thinking about it, it might be perfect for the autumn harvest installment of my WIP. The maenad will be one of Jack’s ex-girlfriends, I’m pretty sure.

  2. Sir Hugo Smooth strolled into the private bar of the VIP lounge at Bacchanalia and made a bee-line for the empty stool next to Caroline. The fiery sparkle of diamond studs on his snowy linen shirt bisected the exquisitely tailored darkness of his unbuttoned tuxedo.

    He used the mirror behind the bar to plumb the depths of her cleavage, ingeniously supported by the cantilevered design of her strapless, sequin-encrusted catsuit. That was gratifying, since she’d chosen her seat precisely for its reflective qualities. This wasn’t her first time at the dance.

    Hugo slid closer and sniffed appreciatively. “Joy de Jean Patou, and something extra. Unique. Irresistible.”

    A snigger to Caroline’s left was hastily turned into a cough that sounded suspiciously like bullshit. “Party time,” Joe murmured into his lapel mic.

    Hugo waved an imperious hand. “Whatever the lady wants.” He patted her knee with one tanned, manicured hand. There was a broad band of pinky-white skin on his wedding finger. “Champagne? Roses? Maybe a Ferrari?”

    “Heavens, is that the time?” Caroline checked her watch, removed his hand and stood up. “It was lovely to meet you, but I really must be going.”

    “Nonsense.” Hugo stood too, plonking both hands firmly on her bare shoulders. “The night is young. My Gulfstream could have us in the Caribbean by dawn. Or maybe you’d rather watch the balloons float over the Masai Mara?”

    Caroline leaned in to him slightly, working the angles to complement Joe’s expert camerawork.

    It would be in Kensington, not Kenya, but when Lady Smooth saw that photograph, the balloon would most assuredly go up.

    • Oh, somebody is busted!! What a marvellous bit of upper crust shenanigans!

      I had to look up Joy de Jean Patou — I thought you might be referencing someone, but was delighted to see it was a real perfume with a great Wikipedia entry. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joy_(perfume) Phrases like “Joy was created in reaction to the 1929 Wall Street crash.” Who does that? What a lovely reaction! I wonder what kind of scents were created in honor of other major disasters, economic or otherwise.

      Also, I loved, “According to Luca Turin, ‘The whole point of its formula was to achieve the platonic idea of a flower, not one particular earthly manifestation.”

      I wish my computer had Smell-O-Vision; I don’t think any of the local stores carry Joy. Maybe next time I’m in the States.

      • Glad you enjoyed that snippet – Joy is an iconic fragrance and it seemed to fit the bill here. I really like jasmine and I love parfum rather than eau de parfum or eau de toilette – often there’s a big difference as it’s made from real flowers (lots of them) which is why it’s so expensive. It’s pretty hard to find parfum in the shops now – probably people aren’t willing to pay the price and the perfume manufacturers make more profit from diluted, synthetic versions in hip packaging supported by big budget ad campaigns. But if you see Joy at the airport or next time you’re back in the US, treat yourself to a sniff. Jasmine and roses. Lovely.

        I also wanted to have a gentle slap at the cliche of describing the hero/heroine’s smell as x or y plus something uniquely them. I like to know how they smell, but that phrase doesn’t add anything to the description and it’s been done to death.

        • (-: I think I am probably a “fume-head” — someone who enjoys smelling interesting smells. I love roses, too, and I think jasmine makes a wonderful accent (my favorite tea is jasmine tea). I bought a small bottle of jasmine essential oil to help me through childbirth, and so I have rather complicated feelings towards the straight smell of jasmine oil. But I’ll remember Joy!

          I’ve smelled Chanel No. 5, but don’t have a firm memory of it. That’s the one I think of when I think of perfumes in literature.

          I think for people of our age, one of the colognes or perfumes that were stuck in the fashion magazines in the 80s would bring back a lot of memories if mentioned in a story. (-: I remember looking at GQ, and all the handsome, stylish men, and the smell of Drakkar Noir wafting from the pages . . . . Oh, the smell of bourgeois romance fantasies!

          LOL, I really am quite sappy and sentimental today. I wonder what’s gotten into me.

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