Category: Writing Prompts

Prompts are short, fun exercises that can be used to get the creative juices flowing or break the ice at a critique meeting. They start as a brief list of ingredients, forming a challenge for the writer to incorporate all of them into one self-contained piece. There are many ways to come up with prompts and each author will find a unique way to express a given prompt.

The Large, Leather-Bound Collection

  • by jenPoe was teetering
  • old man made an alarming sound
  • sought after by alchemists
  • the thief who stole your necklace!
  • the snowbound ruins
  • frivolity of the poets

The large, leather-bound collection of works by Poe was teetering atop the tall stack of books. The old man made an alarming sound as he lunged to catch it, but the tome was too quick and instead the old man’s hands caught a grimoire sought after by alchemists the world over.

His granddaughter picked Poe up from the ground and straightened the remaining books while the old man looked through the window at the frivolity of the poets and gypsies making merry in the snowbound ruins below his tower.

“Miranda!” he cried, “I spy the thief who stole your necklace!”

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The Tough Thing About Communing With the Dead

  • k-avatar“Hasn’t been really wrung out, yet!”
  • he pantomimed
  • flailing arms sent
  • handle an ugly ghost
  • one stumbling organism
  • it was on Kent’s orders

The tough thing about communing with the dead is that they can’t make any sound and they’re just awful at charades.

“Hasn’t really been wrung out, yet!” he pantomimed, or something along those lines… His flailing arms sent swirling eddy currents through the aether. I can handle an ugly ghost, but this was just one stumbling organism trying to make a point.

Finally I grasped his message, something about how he died.

It was on Kent’s orders.

 

bonus points for using them in order!

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Kimberly Toyed with a Lock of her Hair

  • by jenperfectly overturned bowls
  • a lock of her hair
  • she heard the stranger curse
  • your mother was not a witch
  • full-fledged love affair

Kimberly toyed with a lock of her hair as she recalled her first full-fledged love affair.

“Your breasts are like two perfectly overturned bowls,” the man said in greeting. “I can tell your mother was not a witch.”

Although he was strange, and a stranger, Kimberly had been intrigued by him. They quickly found relative privacy in a stairwell where, with her permission, he stole her virginity. After, she heard the stranger curse when he realized she’d stolen his wallet. But she was quicker than he and escaped.

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“Steady Demand for Humanly Edible Dishes”

  • k-avataraffable, stimulating, with a phenomenal grasp
  • disappearance of the natives!
  • five hovercraft: three light
  • humanly edible dishes
  • the night before the simulacrum

“Steady demand for humanly edible dishes on Bleylox-9 ultimately caused the disappearance of the natives!”

Nobody was listening to Alex by now. They used to think him affable, stimulating, with a phenomenal grasp and a handshake to match. But he went too far. He had decided he had to rescue the things that go bump in the night before the simulacrum made them all into jerky. So he hired five hovercraft: three light, two so heavy they didn’t hover, and set off furtively into the deserted polar region.

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“In Any Case, Mr Roosevelt”

  • by jenIn any case, Mr Roosevelt
  • well, that’s one thing
  • relief evident in his expression
  • huge and hairy man clad in
  • a considerable extra expense
  • stroked his luxuriant moustache

“In any case, Mr Roosevelt,” Tammy said as she stroked his luxuriant moustache, “it would be a considerable extra expense.”

The president knew that there was relief evident in his expression. It was so difficult to find an escort willing to engage in a menage a trios with himself and a huge and hairy man clad in lederhosen and glitter.

“Well, that’s one thing I’m prepared to pay extra for, honey.”

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“No! Not a Poodle, a Paddle!”

  • k-avatarthey drank their soup
  • postdated receipt
  • you’re so inept
  • He was giving her clothes!
  • a fat paddle with a handle upside down

“No! Not a poodle, a paddle! A fat paddle with a handle upside down. You’re so inept.”

Simon, chagrined, led the dog away. Martin shook his head and sighed. What else had Simon screwed up?

A quick glance at his desk provided the answer in the form of a postdated receipt from the women’s department. This had Shirley’s signature all over it, as much as if it were literally inked onto the strip of paper. She loved to mess with Simon’s head, and now she was really taking advantage of him. He was giving her clothes!

Martin stalked down to the commissary to find Simon and Shirley at the same table. They drank their soup like old friends. It made Martin seethe with disapproval.

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Deirdre Just Couldn’t Get the Bellhop’s Attention

  • by jenmuscles I hadn’t used before
  • a phenomenally costly divorce
  • old-fashioned meat and potatoes
  • wouldn’t have mattered if she were chrome orange
  • “One suitcase,”
  • registrations in Culver City

Deirdre just couldn’t get the bellhop’s attention. It wouldn’t have mattered if she were chrome, orange-scented, and blinking, the man was studiously ignoring her.

“One suitcase,” his dismissive air said. “No tip there.”

Little did he know that Dierdre had just come out on the winning side of a phenomenally costly divorce settlement, and was in the mood to splurge. Her lawyer claimed the victory came from “using muscles I hadn’t used before, at least not in a court of law.”

Once the papers were signed and the divorce was final, leaving Derek nothing but a memory, Deirdre made several hotel registrations in Culver City under assumed names, and was attempting to check into the chicest of the bunch. The restaurant on the third floor bragged of their old-fashioned meat, and potatoes so modern they should be on display in the Tate. Deirdre couldn’t wait to spend Derek’s money on something so outrageous.

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Marguerite Entertained a Feeling

  • k-avatarclearly jacked around
  • a feeling of ennui
  • sitting passively while her mother combed her hair
  • Rabbis singing
  • a minor avalanche

Marguerite entertained a feeling of ennui, even sitting passively while her mother combed her hair. In the hallway she heard Rabbis singing, their stentorian chant releasing a minor avalanche of Gentile spiders fleeing the resounding Yiddish. The apartment in the synagogue had cheap rent, but the landlord clearly jacked around Marguerite’s impressionable mother.

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“Speaking of Prison Cells”

  • by jenBut this involves a contradiction
  • we stayed home and did our lovemaking in bed
  • Professor Palgrave had found 288 lyrics
  • speaking of prison cells
  • and I am not a walking corpse
  • Happy Birthday to you!

“Speaking of prison cells,” said Professor Palgrave, “once my wife and I were arrested for public indecency. Let me tell you, after spending a few hours in police custody, we wished we stayed home and did our lovemaking in bed!”

His grad students chuckled and blushed at the thought of the portly professor in such a predicament, though he was the best teacher in the music department.

Professor Palgrave had found 288 lyrics to unreleased John Lennon songs in a shoe box at an auction in Liverpool, England, thus cementing his notoriety among his students, and in the music press.

“But this involves a contradiction, this story of yours, Professor,” said one of the newer students. “I thought you said you weren’t married.”

“And I am not a walking corpse, either,” said the professor grumpily. “But I feel like one sometimes. My wife left me shortly after the unfortunate incident I just related to you. She couldn’t stand the shame. She left on my birthday of all days.”

“Well, Happy Birthday to you!” said his teaching assistant sarcastically. “That’s pretty heartless.”

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“Do You Think You Could Let Me Have Some Blood?”

  • k-avatarThis will be a strange and rich experience
  • the cradle’s still soft
  • either snobbery or laziness
  • do you think you could let me have some blood?
  • I feel the better for our little chat
  • Italians often exaggerate such things
  • it bubbled out of him abruptly

“Do you think you could let me have some blood?”

Miguel nodded and shifted his weight in his chair, and then it bubbled out of him abruptly like a sneeze.

Vincenzo hastened to position the cup so none would go to waste. “Mamma Mia!” he shouted. “This is the most generous helping!” Although Italians often exaggerate such things, Vincenzo was being honest. Lifting his glass, Vincenzo breathed, “This will be a strange but rich experience.” And then he tossed it off.

Miguel mumbled at length, his words slurred by either snobbery or laziness. All Vincenzo could catch were the words, “…the cradle’s still soft…” And then Miguel passed out.

“I feel the better for our little chat,” Vincenzo proclaimed.

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