Elizabeth: Friday Story Time and Sprints – Brr!

We’ve been talking about cold starts this week and Mother Nature has been doing her part to provide an appropriately chilly atmosphere.  My outdoor plants, which had been fooled into thinking it was springtime by the warm weather just a few weeks ago have been shivering their way through several nights of freezing temperatures – not something they are used to here on the West Coast.

I have been bundling up in my fuzziest blanket here at home and watching coverage of the Olympics, something that’s not particularly conducive to getting words on the page.  I have the day off work on Friday, however, so I’m going to throw off the blankets and make a serious attempt at getting some writing done.

Care to join me?

For those of you working away on a story (whether a first draft or a polished version on its way to publication), we’d love to hear a bit – whether it’s a scene, a paragraph, or even a phrase that you are especially pleased with and would like to share.

If you don’t have a story in progress, or just want to work on something new, maybe our weekly writing prompt will catch your creative fancy.   This week we’ve got a theme and some random words to work with.

Ready?

Here is today’s writing prompt:

Write a story where:  your characters are trapped somewhere

And includes any (or all) of the following random words:

dark                  crash                     isolated             hungry

foreign             mistaken             pocket                crooked

pressure          furious                 ankle                  paralysis

clever                accidental           lemon                treasure

If the writing prompt doesn’t speak to you, here is a photographic prompt.  Perhaps it will spur a story moment for you, just like the goblet did for Diana Gabaldon in the video we posted earlier this week.

Whether you’re sharing a bit of your current work or writing something fresh based on the writing prompt, we hope you’ll join us for today’s Story Time.

Happy writing to all!

6 thoughts on “Elizabeth: Friday Story Time and Sprints – Brr!

  1. Got ’em all, I think…

    It was shortly after my father went missing that Victor appeared, seemingly from nowhere. Tall, tanned, and talkative, we knew from the start he was crooked, but mama wouldn’t hear a word against him. He promised her treasure beyond measure, and she invested in lemon after lemon, everything from diamond mines to oil strikes in the remotest of foreign enclaves.

    There was nothing accidental about Victor’s success. His modus operandi was a clever blend of smooth flattery and high-pressure selling. After the inevitable crash, when there was nothing left, he disappeared as mysteriously as he’d arrived.

    Mama wasted away in a paralysis of humiliation and despair.

    We were left homeless, penniless, furious, and hungry for revenge.

    Plumbing the depths of the dark web revealed that it was no isolated incident. Victor (or Jared, or Leo) had left a trail of misery from Adelaide to Zagreb. If he thought he could destroy our family and calmly move on to his next dupe, he was sadly mistaken.

    First I emptied his bulging bitcoin wallet. I found enough there to recompense his long list of victims and establish myself as a wealthy, featherbrained and oh-so-tempting target. It was easier than I expected. Hitting him so hard in the pocket made him rush to take advantage.

    So here I was, in the penthouse suite of Geneva’s oldest hotel, doing my best to look wide-eyed and gullible as Carlo/Victor/Jared/Leo described the merits of truffle farming. The air was filled with the seductive scent of the peerless white truffle he’d brought to bait his hook.

    Carlo had charm, smarm, and a driver waiting to whisk him to the airport. Unfortunately for him, I had a wire under my Versace suit and a warrant for his arrest in my Hermes briefcase. And if that proved insufficient, a firearm in my ankle boots and a backup team cunningly disguised as butlers, chambermaids and maintenance men.

    He thought the trap was closing on me, but this time he was the one who was about to lose everything.

  2. Pingback: Michaeline: Cold Starts for February Fun – Eight Ladies Writing

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