Elizabeth: Friday Writing Sprints – The 3-Day Weekend Edition

Here in the states, we’re getting ready to celebrate Memorial Day, a day established to remember people who died while serving in the country’s armed forces (and often just deceased loved ones in general).

For some, this weekend is the unofficial start of the summer season.  Sure, summer isn’t for a few weeks yet and the current weather is foggy and brisk, but this three-day weekend is bound to have its share of picnics, shorts, water sports, and the occasional adult beverage.

I’m looking forward to the time off work, though it does mean that next week will be packed extra-full of things to do.  Ah well, for now, this three-day weekend means a few extra hours of napping, reading, and writing time.  What better way to kick all that off than with a little Random Word Improv?

Who’s with me?

Whether you’re remembering lost loved ones, planning to spend some quality time with friends and family, or just looking for a little distraction, a few minutes of improv are a great way to have a little fun and get some words on the page.  As a plus, once you get in the writing frame of mind, you might just find you want to keep going.

All right, let’s get started with today’s weekend inspired random words.

sun                      waves                 family                   backyard

picnic                 grill                     sunscreen           Frisbee

bike                     crab                    cooler                   ice

bikini                  blanket              pool                       hammock

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.

5 thoughts on “Elizabeth: Friday Writing Sprints – The 3-Day Weekend Edition

  1. I’m so sick of myself and my excuses that I’m just going to write here in the comment box, and then copy it over to my documents for future work (assuming it’s worth saving — argh! There I go with the excuses again!) Excelsior!!

    Sun sparkled on the waves of the lake, and 250 happy (more or less) campers picnicked on the banks of the lake, far from family and work. It seemed idyllic, but Nixie knew better. In the middle of the lake, in a pool of water just a little more blue-green than rest, her father was lurking. Nixie walked away from the acres of blankets, smoky grills and laughter to a weeping willow that draped over its own tiny little bay. She reached into the water and tickled the little gold carp that had followed her. “Tell my father I am here.” The fish dutifully streaked off to the middle of the lake, and Nixie watched through the waving green curtain of willow as the oddly colored circle of water began to head towards her cool little niche.

    The circle stopped, now glowing blue-green in the shade of the willow tree, and the seagod rose from the water like a set piece in an opera. Nixie sighed. Her father was so dramatic, even for an audience of one. He was the green of mossy rocks, an oxidized copper crown on his head, the water pouring off his long hair and beard, down his chest and past his fins. “Daughter, where is my gold?”

    (And it all goes from hell from here. Bleh. Off to work on it a little more on my own. Got half the words in, though, and I do like the goldfish messenger. Not bad work for 15 minutes.)

    • Great start, Michaeline. Welcome back to Fridays. Hope you get a chance to continue the story and let us know what happens next. Loved the “Her father was so dramatic . . .” bit.

      • (-: I need a nap so bad. But at least I can say I did something today. This is related to my current WIP. I’m pretty sure the father is involved some way, but I can’t get him into the story at this point. I’ll keep trying! Maybe he’s supposed to be subtext, though.

        • She hasn’t got a good answer, though. She’s not the type to justify-justify-justify. Which is all she can basically do at this point. “I just got here, the dwarf who stole my gold turned it into a ring (and what happened to the rest, I want to know!), and he’s surrounded right now by the camp board of directors, who happen to be some of the most powerful magic users in North America.” She can’t say, “Fuck off, Father” because he’s of the “I helped bring you into this world, I can take you out of it” variety. And saying nothing never works. ARGH! Do I let him kick her ass and get some sympathy for my villain? Hmmm.

          Well, just talking about it clarifies a few things. We’re talking about a bucket full of gold. At this point in the story, I have one gold ring. Possibly two. Evaporation? My mind is not saying no to a gold crown . . . maybe only a couple of coins, or even just one of the coins in the bucket was magic. Hmmm. That would solve a lot of things.

          (-: I’m glad we had this chat.

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