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.

Fletcher Made the Mistake

  • by jenexplosives placed inside
  • regarding the stranger as a harmless lunatic
  • within the system
  • “No grownups!”
  • the sacred lotus flower

Fletcher made the mistake of regarding the stranger as a harmless lunatic, one of those poor unfortunates who can’t really get along within the system of society, but pose no real danger. It was a mistake he would regret until the day he died, even after his mind atrophied and his once magnificent intellect devolved to a childlike state that compelled him to build forts out of couch cushions and yell, “No grownups!” any time a nurse or orderly approached with his medication. The stranger was definitely a lunatic, but he was anything but harmless. The sacred lotus flower he carried past Fletcher’s security post that fateful day had enough high-grade explosives placed inside to flatten a city block, so the circus tent stood no chance. No chance at all.

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We Are Certain The Contaminant is Biological

  • k-avataris biological in nature
  • the gentleman bowed
  • indicated the formation of the first crystals
  • certain dark and dirty chambers
  • but the Impala is a spacious automobile

“We are certain the contaminant is biological in nature,” I was advised, and the gentleman bowed as he told me the news and indicated the formation of the first crystals in certain dark and dirty chambers of the passenger compartment, “and, we fear, quite virulent,” the dapper mechanic went on, “but the Impala is a spacious automobile, so just stay out of the affected zones and you’ll be fine.”

Bonus points for using them in one sentence, and in order!

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Blaine Approached the Tennis Court

  • by jenin small gold letters
  • five minutes or an hour
  • your love was just a game
  • “Let him speak!”
  • so weak and emaciated

Blaine approached the tennis court bleachers where Lucille sat with her gaggle of girlfriends, watching the match. She saw him coming and stood to leave, but Gertrude grabbed her by the elbow and said, “Let him speak!”

It mattered not if he spoke for five minutes or an hour, Blaine knew he had no hope of winning her back, so he read the speech he had prepared ahead of time which was printed in small gold letters on an index card and cupped in the palm of his left hand. “Your love was just a game, Lucille, like tennis, and I so weak and emaciated from the nonstop playing of it that I could not help but lose.”

And with what little dignity he still possessed, he turned and strode away, leaving Gertrude and the others all awhisper.

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It Was The Kind of Memory

  • k-avatarmadly dig at your ears with a Q-Tip
  • endless chain of consequences
  • the submersible’s robotic arm
  • aka the Maine lobster
  • a solitary llama was squeezed in

It was the kind of memory that makes you want to madly dig at your ears with a Q-Tip, or with a fork, some implement that can eradicate it from your head. One little lapse that led to an endless chain of consequences and ever deepening despair, depths both figurative and literal. Allowing the code book to be thrown overboard, which meant the message from HQ couldn’t be deciphered and the ambassador’s questions couldn’t be answered. Now, a mile below the stormy surface, using the submersible’s robotic arm to retrieve the errant codex from the muck. Hoping to complete the task quickly and avoid a run-in with the armored patrol sub of Jack Rabies, aka the Maine Lobster. The ambassador knows more than he’s telling you, has some disturbing personal stake in the outcome. At his insistence, a solitary llama was squeezed in with you on the tiny sub. Fortunately, it knows how to operate the sonar array.

 

bonus points for using them in order!

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As the Butler

  • by jenonly marginally shorter than the average man
  • he hissed
  • came from the heart and not from the lips
  • the butler put my cloak
  • I know you may be skeptical

As the butler put my cloak in the closet he hissed, “I know you may be skeptical, but I am only marginally shorter than the average man,” but the sound came from the heart and not from the lips, for there is no way to truly hiss a phrase with so few sibilant sounds in it.

bonus points for using them all in one sentence!

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To The Cocky Princeton Freshman

  • k-avatar(What we deem offensive is probably about what you’d expect)
  • cocky Princeton freshman
  • instill fetishes in human beings
  • the police force in Prefrontal, Nebraska
  • she says, “Open up your mouth, man.”

To the cocky Princeton freshman she says, “Open up your mouth, man.” He does. “Shut your eyes.” He does. The waitress was holding a can of whipped cream the whole time, so his cooperation was understandable. Of course, he’d been hitting on her relentlessly for an hour, so it was also understandable that she crammed his “generous” tip into his ignorant maw and then sprayed him in the puss with the whipped cream while he spat out nickels.

The ensuing disturbance at Tipsy’s Diner was not the sort of event that the police force in Prefrontal, Nebraska was really prepared to deal with. They overreacted a tad, storming the place in full SWAT getup and arresting everybody they didn’t recognize as a local.

Of course, being a frosh, this cocky twerp had never been in cuffs before. In the back of the van he discovered that he liked it, which would eventually inspire his master’s thesis on factors which instill fetishes in human beings. Which was what got him kicked out of Princeton. His advisor wrote, “This offensive paper made our chihuahuas retch. (What we deem offensive is probably about what you’d expect)”

So, yeah, I knew him before he was a supervillain.

 

Aureliano is Really Quite Masculine

  • by jenalthough his solid chin is clear of any hair
  • with a canine-skin collar
  • “Big Apple” cufflinks
  • dark blue eyes and a beautiful belly
  • overruled by Judge Maurice

Aureliano is really quite masculine, although his solid chin is clear of any hair, his chest as well. He has dark blue eyes, and a beautiful bellybutton rests in the center of his rock-hard abs. Dancing at my bachelorette party with a canine-skin collar around his thick, manly neck, and absolutely nothing else on but Chippendales style faux-cuffs decorated with “Big Apple” cufflinks, he is the very definition of virility.

“What the heck,” I say to myself, “I’m not married yet!”

I throw caution and my clothes to the wind and smile enticingly at Aureliano. He smiles back, but our tryst is overruled by Judge Maurice, which is what Aureliano calls his penis, which refuses to cooperate, if you know what I mean.

I tip him well anyway, to ensure he doesn’t mention this to my fiancé Dirk tomorrow when Aureliano stands beside him as best man at our wedding.

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I Know It’s a Taboo Subject

  • k-avatarlike the tears of a manatee
  • chews on bed sheets
  • Considering the circumstances?
  • his penis hung from the bush
  • into a dazzling brilliancy

I know it’s a taboo subject, but I’m afraid I must insist we discuss it. Would it be easier if I substituted a code word for the offensive term? Very well. Rather than actually saying that word which so distresses you, I shall say “penis.” Agreed? Excellent.

First off you have to bear in mind that Hinshaw was there. Yes, that changes everything. I mean the man chews on bed sheets, and we’re talking fraternity bedding. No class. Anyway, for all his faults the man’s a marvelous mixologist. On the night in question he took Winston’s — er, Winston’s penis — took it behind the bar with him. Winston didn’t know, poor thing, and spent half the evening searching for it. But Hinshaw used the penis to invent a new cocktail, and it was like the tears of a manatee muddled into a dazzling brilliancy with ginger and a hint of cloves. Winston got so sloppy on them, it’s no wonder he lost track of where his penis got to.

Me? Did I have any of this devilish concoction? Considering the circumstances? What do you take me for? It was delicious. I think Winston deserves at least half the credit, though.

Which brings me to the crux of the matter. Hinshaw, that madman, doesn’t know how to take proper care of himself and his own things, so you can imagine his cavalier treatment of Winston’s… So as the sun came up, Winston and I split up and it was me who found it. His penis hung from the bush next to the driveway. Well I’m afraid I panicked and hid it in my pocket. I lied to poor Winston and so as far as he knows the thing’s still missing. I have it with me. It doesn’t feel right to just leave it lying about, you know?

I really do need some advice.

The Burly Man Grabbed My Hand

  • by jenshook it till it rang
  • I don’t know you, and I don’t want to
  • shaped like a yellow submarine
  • a first look at the primate HQ
  • “Oh, and David Copperfield too.”

The burly man grabbed my hand and shook it till it rang, clanking all my metal bracelets together and causing me to think, “I don’t know you, and I don’t want to!” When he finally released his grip, the back of my hand sported a bruise shaped like a yellow submarine, only not the one the Beatles sang about. It was shaped like the canary yellow submersible the undersea explorers used when they finally, after years of searching, located the lost aquatic gorilla habitat and got a first look at the primate HQ complex. I’m sure you’ve seen the video.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” the burly man said, trying to look down my blouse. When he noticed my boyfriend standing right beside me, he added dismissively, “Oh, and David Copperfield too.”

That’s when my boyfriend, who is named David, but not Copperfield, punched the burly man in the eye, leaving a mark that more resembled a map of Antarctica than any underwater vehicle I’ve ever seen.

bonus points for using them in order!

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They Have No Lawyers

  • k-avatarthey have no lawyers
  • No wonder she attracts me
  • to see up close how he builds
  • nocturnal emissions
  • examining the dead sailors

They have no lawyers in this country. Instead, disputes are settled with feats of strength, and with games of chance.

They have no lawyers, but they have judges. Someone must decree the victor, proclaim which is the stronger or luckier man.

Grizelda is a judge. They are all women, the judges in this country, but Grizelda is the only one I know of who is also a prostitute. No wonder she attracts me.

When presiding, she always spends one night with each man. This allows her to see up close how he builds his rationale, and gives her the opportunity to read the truth in his nocturnal emissions.

Examining the dead sailors bobbing next to my lifeboat, I hope Grizelda will take my case.

bonus points for using them in order!

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