Happy Friday and, if you’re participating, happy NaNoWriMo Day 2. How’s that word count going? I’ll be NaNo-ing this month, as I have for the last several years, but I won’t be starting until the weekend, once my work-day brain has had a chance to recover from a long, crazy week.
Besides being the start of NaNo, we’re also in the final days of the current election cycle, which means non-stop ads for and against the candidates and propositions. My mailbox has been filled for weeks with contradictory flyers telling me who and what to vote for. Talk about creative writing.
I’ll certainly be glad to have that over and done with, though I’m both eager for and dreading the actual election. I’m hopeful about the results but, since the world seems to have taken a turn for the crazy in recent years, I worry my hope might be misplaced.
Fortunately, I’ll get an extra hour of sleep this weekend where I can dream about happy-ever-afters, thanks to the beginning (end?) of Daylight Savings time. (Coincidentally, that is one of the items on the ballot next week).
Before I take advantage of that extra hour for sleep, I need to get 1,667 words a day on the page. Before I do that, I think I’ll give this week’s story prompt a try as a little creative-writing-ice-breaker.
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 today’s writing prompt will catch your creative fancy. Thanks to all who have been playing along these past few weeks – I’m always amazed with the stories that come out of a set of random words.
Ready?
Here we go:
“While dog-sitting, a hypochondriac hostage negotiator refuses to leave the bathtub.”
Feel free to include any (or all) of the following random words:a
naked excuse error elbow
boa confidential anguish French
contagious apple old poisonous
beauty drumbeat parrot martini
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!
Eight Ladies Writing 
I scrambled all the words I couldn’t fit earlier into the last couple of sentences, which makes practically no sense. But it was fun! I am loving these prompts. They are hilarious. I think the right person could make a whole book out of these. 🙂 Also, I love your observation about how the political flyers are creative writing. This is SO TRUE. Okay, here we go:
The Saturday Night Bath
Naked, Adelia Everston Fordyce (younger daughter of the Bridgehampton Fordyces) sipped her apple martini in the bathtub, careful not to splash any of its contents into her bathwater, and contemplated Precious, the overfed and insalubrious French poodle lying on the bathmat.
“You’re a poisonous old thing,” she told the dog confidentially, “and a terrible excuse for a pet, yes you are.”
Precious turned a contemptuous eye to the woman in the tub. Never a beauty even in its salad days, the dog’s tight curls were thinning and patchy now, and its nonstandard coloration had ensured that it would never win champion, even at the most provincial of dog shows. However, the animal seemed to suffer little anguish over its uncelebrated fate.
“You’re probably contagious,” Adelia said. “I’m sure that vet was in error about that test result.”
Precious sighed, and Adelia leaned up on one elbow to inspect her charge.
“Well, you can’t put lipstick on a pig, and you can’t put a boa on a parrot,” she said. “Although I expect you could if you were determined enough about it. And didn’t care much about the outcome.”
Precious ignored her.
“So are you going to let me get out of here now, or what?” Adelia asked. “I’m getting rather cold, if you want to know. And I’m a drumbeat away from being as wrinkled as a prune. What do you say, old thing?”
She stood up in the bath, water sheeting off her magnificent, gleaming body. Precious snarled, his dark lips curled back over sharp, dripping incisors. Ears laid flat back, the dog suddenly looked as though every bit of its hundred pounds was in fighting trim and prepared for the worst.
“Okay, okay,” Adelia said, subsiding back into the tub. “No reason to get all shirty about it. So, old bean, what do you think of the Mets chance for the pennant?”
What a fun story, Kay. I love the use of “shirty”. People just don’t incorporate that in everyday conversation nearly as often as they should.
Glad you are enjoying the Friday prompts.