Elizabeth: Friday Writing Sprints

Well this week has been a little out of the ordinary for many folks here in beautiful California.  Fall brings the return to school, hockey season, the baseball plays-offs and, unfortunately, fire season.  High winds, abundant growth, and warm temperatures can sometimes be a deadly combination.

To combat that this week, with high winds expected, many areas have been without electricity; the power intentionally turned off to eliminate the possibility of power-lines downed by the high winds sparking a fire.

The theory sounds good, but the reality has been problematic for many.  It’s amazing just how much we depend on electricity for day-to-day life.  I (so far) have been lucky enough to live in an area unaffected, though my coworkers were not so lucky.  On the plus side, I now have steaks in the refrigerator, courtesy of a co-worker who lost power and didn’t want them to go to waste.

Always a bright side.

Since I’m here with power; warm and well-fed, I’m thinking I should do something productive like giving today’s story prompt and random words a try.

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), if you’re not feeling random, 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, I hope today’s story prompt and/or random words will catch your creative fancy.


What if: “Your character faced a challenge?”

Feel free to interpret the “What if” any way you choose and include any (or all) of the following random words:

equipment      belly             aimless    baffling

noise                bloke            fuzzy       clever

beekeeper       footwork     glass         dream

corduroy         setup            lump        artist

I look forward to seeing your stories in the comments.  If you’re not feeling in the writing mood today, or don’t have time, feel free to post suggestions you might have for future “what-if” prompts.  Ideas are always welcome.

Happy writing to all!

11 thoughts on “Elizabeth: Friday Writing Sprints

  1. I’m carrying on the short story from Jill’s beginning and Elizabeth’s installment. Thanks for the words, Elizabeth! I didn’t do you guys justice, but then, I never could.

    And Now, Twins
    Jenny handed the fuzzy bunny to the drowsy baby Elspeth and hoped to high heaven that the twins would fall asleep and dream the dreams of babies, whatever they were. She was exhausted.

    How had she ended up here? It was baffling. One minute she’d been walking along the Scottish cliffs admiring the view, and the next, evidently, she was mothering homeless twins. Not that she had a clue how to do that.

    But somehow Maeve, the village maven, seer, and chief beekeeper, had decided that they’d make a great family with Jordy MacHugh, Canadian ex-pat, budding opera house impresario, and all-round great bloke. Jordy did indeed seem to be a nice guy, not to mention cute, but this setup screamed trouble with a capital T, no matter how much fancy footwork you put into the dance.

    Jenny had to admit her life had been aimless before now, even though she’d been overbooked with commitments to others. Jordy, on the other hand, was an artist. Right now he was down at the festival site, overseeing construction and, no doubt, testing the acoustics and whatever other equipment they were installing. The village had given him a temporary house until the manor was ready, and she’d moved right in, mainly because the twins had nowhere else to go and needed her to take care of them. She was uncomfortable with the arrangement, although that Maeve thought she was so clever to push them together.

    Her belly grumbled, making enough noise to wake the sleeping Elspeth and Isla, and Jenny left the tiny nursery and went downstairs to the kitchen. She made a sandwich for herself and Jordy, who’d be coming back for his lunch soon, wiping her hands on her corduroy slacks. They were already grungy from twin spit-up; having kids sure made a mess of your clothes.

    She put the plates on the table and poured a glass of milk for herself and ale for him and then looked out the window to see if he was coming down the lane. Usually he was as regular as clockwork. And there he was, the sun glinting off his red-gold hair like fire on the mountain, his broad shoulders looking strong enough to carry all of them to safety.

    She fought down the lump in her throat.

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