The Cops Swarmed

  1. by jenCharacter – Pirate
  2. Setting – A smelly, gray beach
  3. Object – Handful of dirt
  4. Situation – Police search

The cops swarmed all over the beach. It had once been pristine, but was now gray with fingerprint powder, and stank of both sweaty detectives and wet dogs. The K-9 unit was enjoying the outing at least.

Black Kent stroked his beard with his wrist stump. Of course they had taken his hook when they’d placed him under arrest. His mood was blacker than his moniker. When were they going to admit that they had no evidence? As soon as they released him from this blasted squad car, he’d be on his ship and sailing for the southern hemisphere.

A uniformed officer ran up with a handful of dirt. “Sarge, I think I found something!”

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About 4 Elements Prompts

Before we entered into our passionate love affair with stichomancy prompts, the 4 Elements prompt was our go-to. The idea is simple, but the initial set-up takes a good bit of time.

The four elements concept turns up in many disciplines. For our purposes, the ones we are concerned with are:

  1. Character
  2. Setting
  3. Object
  4. Situation

Character is pretty obvious. You could go with “James Bond,” or “an angry child” or “the inventor of Altoids.” Challenge yourself.

Setting is where your prompted story will take place. Be as vague or specific as you like. Will it be “Canada” or will it be “the 3rd stall from the left in the women’s bathroom on the second mezzanine at Radio City Music Hall”? That’s up to you.

Object is simply an item that will appear in the scene. It doesn’t need to play a vital role, but it can. Will it be a guitar? A pair of slippers? A donut? That’s up to you, and fate.

Situation is a little more complicated. It can be the impetus of the entire plot, or it can simply be something that’s weighing on your character’s mind. “power outage” “servicing the addiction” “unplanned amputation” “new shoes today”

To prepare, you will need to spend a few hours brainstorming a list for each of these elements. You can write each on an index card or a slip of paper, or you could work with a spreadsheet. We have 4 envelopes, one for each element, each filled with little scraps of paper.

When it’s time to write, blindly choose a single entry from each element and combine all four into a perfect work of microfiction. Simple, right? Again, we tend toward humor, but there’s no rule saying you have to. There’s also no rule saying you have to keep them brief. If you’re truly inspired, you could turn these prompts into short stories or even novels.

In the coming weeks our Monday and Wednesday posts will feature the results of 4 Elements Prompts. Let us know how this method works for you.

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Setting Prompt

During October we will be sharing passages that we’ve written independently from the same prompt.

Today we have a different kind of prompt, the setting/picture prompt. A member of our critique group brought this in for us all to try.

Here is the inspiration photo we were provided:

Lava Rocks

Kent’s Take

Evans knew he could trust Smith. He inched backwards down the sheer face, his safe descent relying on Smith to hang on to the other end of the rope because the weather-beaten basalt was too hard to drive in belaying pins.

Evans actually felt he had the better half of the job, because soon now his progress would take him into precious shade. Smith had to bake in the cruel desert sun at the edge of the drop.

It did take skill and concentration to place his feet, choosing spots between the vertical ridges of eroded lava-rock, where the folds of this infernal theatre curtain couldn’t trap his boots. He could feel the heat through his gloves, through the thick soles of his boots. The glove was becoming threadbare from gripping the abrasive stone to keep himself from swinging, so as not to fray the rope.

If his theory was right, then at the lowest point in the chasm he would see fossils, imprints of life that thrived in magma.

Finally, shade.

And then, weightlessness and swirling fear.

Smith had theories of his own.

 

Jen’s Take

by jenThe Monsters of Rock play Red Rocks

The members of Metallica regretted their experimentation with Japanese radiation the minute they grew too large for their tour bus. Luckily, in their enhugened state, the walk from Los Angeles to Denver took only half an hour.

Lars Ulrich was the first to straddle the peaks of the Rocky Mountains, and he looked around in wonder. Darkness was only just beginning to creep up from the horizon, and Lars shielded his eyes from the sun’s last rays. Below him the mountains jutted, rough primeval and snow-capped. To the east, Lars caught his first glimpse of the amphitheater nestled as it was among the peaks. The ruddy, rusty stones that gave it its name looked warm and inviting, but Lars knew they were no warmer than any of the surrounding grey rocks. The parking lot was alive with tiny moving dots of many colors, but Lars could hear nothing but the rush of icy wind around his head and the occasional roar of a passing jet.

James and the others joined Lars at last and together the Monsters of Rock gazed down upon their fans, wondering where they would find instruments large enough to play.

 

What do you think? Who handled this prompt better?

And A Couch That Opened Out

During October we will be sharing passages that we’ve written independently from the same prompt.

  • and a couch that opened out
  • don’t make it just a flesh wound
  • Men’s wallets are like women’s purses
  • stealing a hat was beneath contempt
  • “Does that hurt?”
  • the biggest frog

Jen’s Take

by jenYolanda was the reigning queen of the Times Square pickpockets. So far no one had been able to top her score from the previous spring when she managed to lift both a Gucci bag and a couch that opened out into a trampoline from the same unsuspecting socialite.

Today Yolanda had to make an example of Jimmy the Hat Thief. As every pickpocket knew, stealing a hat was beneath contempt. Men’s wallets are like women’s purses, though, in the respectability hierarchy.

“Does that hurt?” Yolanda asked Jimmy as she poked him with the hat pin from his latest prize.

“Don’t make it just a flesh wound,” Deak encouraged, “or he’ll never learn his lesson.”

Yolanda considered, then said with an evil grin, “Bring me the biggest frog you can find in Central Park.”

Kent’s Take

“Does that hurt?” Hackney twisted the hatchet.

“Yes, but keep going. Don’t make it just a flesh wound, it has to be convincing.” Simpson gritted his teeth.

Stealing a hat was beneath contempt, but still drew notice from the law. A pound of flesh, or the biggest frog in the county, those were the choices.

Men’s wallets are like women’s purses, as far as the penalties for misuse. Karaoke. Bad business.

Better to pass on the right. Just spend one fitful night — choose between a bathtub and a couch that opened out.

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What do you think? Who handled this prompt better?

Verbal Interaction

Sometimes the hardest part of writing is actually facing the empty page.

Sometimes sitting at the keyboard doesn’t trigger your creativity.

One way of dealing with those problems is dictation. Many writers speak into a recorder for later transcription, or use speech recognition software to capture their words directly into text.

Hearing my fellow writers talk about such tactics, I’m struck by the ways in which a collaborative writing arrangement offers the same benefits automatically. It’s natural to read fresh passages aloud to your partner, and hearing things aloud is one of the fastest ways to identify areas for improvement. (You could also treat your partner like a secretary on Mad Men, but that’s getting a bit personal.)

Kidding aside, we routinely give each other dictation. We work on two separate copies of the text, each on our own machine, and then sync up the changes. If the passage is long, we’ll usually swap files around to accomplish synchronization. But our revision process often consists of small edits, and these we trade verbally. It keeps the process a conversation, literally.

This conversation begins in the brainstorming and outlining stage, continues through the composition stage, and on through all the stages of editing. In future posts we’ll talk in more detail about our joint approach to the various stages, and how having an ally can make all the difference.

Varnishing My Study

During October we will be sharing passages that we’ve written independently from the same prompt.

  • varnishing my study
  • like calling a leg a “limb”
  • each kill a man
  • a stuffed owl
  • I am still on a merry-go-round

Kent’s Take

Even after completing my hazing ritual and varnishing my study, I am still on a merry-go-round of ennui, riding a stuffed owl of disenfranchisement, pondering why we must each kill a man with a harmonica to gain entry into this occult club, puzzling over whether it means the harmonica is to be the weapon or if the victim must have it on him (I covered both bases, just to play it safe), and vexed by habits of linguistic imprecision (like calling a leg a “limb”) in a world where language is already so rife with ambiguity and clouded meanings.

One sentence = Bonus Points!

Jen’s Take

by jenJohannes Van Der Oppenstüffel, the reclusive Dutch billionaire, was sponsoring a competition to choose his next bodyguard. The first task he assigned the hopefuls was to scour the grounds of his immense estate in search of a stuffed owl. Once that was accomplished, he told those who remained, “You will each travel to a foreign city and you will each kill a man named either Karl or Geoffrey. When the task is completed, you will call me with the details. And when I say ‘details’ I mean I want you to be specific. Nothing like calling a leg a ‘limb’ will be allowed.”

Five hours later the first call came.

“I am still on a merry-go-round in the Tivoli park in Copenhagen” came the rough voice, “but Karl is dead, his head crushed by a cotton candy machine.”

“Excellent,” replied Johannes. “Return to Amsterdam immediately to take up your duties. You will begin by varnishing my study. If you know what I mean.”

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What do you think? Who handled this prompt better?

Oh, It’s Too Confusing

During October we will be sharing passages that we’ve written independently from the same prompt.

  • Oh, it’s too confusing
  • The hell I am
  • his cranium was large
  • particularly the gas attack
  • hastily procured a saucer of milk and one of sardines
  • Can you use it to pay taxes?

Jen’s Take

by jenHis cranium was large, some might say overlarge, due to several instances in his early childhood, particularly the gas attack. Unfortunately that giant melon did not house an equally over-sized intellect.

“Oh, it’s too confusing,” he said of the internet. “Can you use it to pay taxes?”

I sighed. He always got dumber when he was hungry. I hastily procured a saucer of milk and one of sardines as well, in hopes of staving off further degeneration of his intellectual faculties.

“We’ll talk about that in a minute,” I said, “But first you’re going to eat this nice snack.”

“The hell I am,” he replied belligerently. “Not unless you make it a smoothie.”

 

Kent’s Take

“Oh, it’s too confusing,” Felix sighed. His cranium was large, but mostly filled with styrofoam peanuts. Consequently, there were few things that did not confuse him. A 1040-ez lay far outside of his area of proficiency.

“You’re making too much of a fuss,” Felicity replied.

“The hell I am,” Felix growled back.

“Just follow your instincts. You know you have the poise of a panther.”

“I do? Can you use it to pay taxes?”

“Here, stay put and take slow, calming breaths.” Felicity dashed to the kitchen and hastily procured a saucer of milk and one of sardines. Upon her return she said, “These will help you concentrate.”

Felix lapped at the milk dubiously, and swerved away from the sardines altogether. But he had to admit that his mind responded to the unconventional tonic. Soon it filled with visions for how to cope with the IRS, visions Felix found invigorating – particularly the gas attack.

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What do you think? Who handled this prompt better?

Constraints and Limits Spark Creativity

When two people write together, there are twice as many heads coming up with ideas. Perhaps more importantly though, there are also twice as many critics of every impulsive, creative act. This is a good thing. Ideas are sold by weight, not volume. You don’t improve your fiction via more ideas; you do so with better ideas.

A good partner makes sure your work meets the required standard. Sometimes there can be some friction if the two of you don’t immediately swoon for the same imagery and concepts. It’s natural to want unrestrained license to explore any wild notion that springs to your cortex, but that doesn’t mean it’s the path toward achieving your best work. When everything goes on the page, unfiltered, your truly great ideas are tangled up with, well, the other ones. A partner’s critique helps you filter things. Later, you can return the favor when your partner wants to wear plaid with stripes.

It feels like a paradox, but working within constraints actually increases your creativity. Cutting back on the effects budget drives you to focus on character and story. Avoiding tangents keeps your prose tight. Working by yourself, it’s often difficult to gauge when you’re going astray. In a collaboration, someone has your back.

Enchanted Mariner Ducks

During October we will be sharing passages that we’ve written independently from the same prompt.

  • enchanted mariner ducks
  • striped scarlet luminescent work-coats
  • low relief with pubic hair
  • the feathery roots of his water hyacinths
  • “Stop quoting Lewis Carroll at me!”
  • tear a larynx

Kent’s Take

I sat in Doctor Entenman’s waiting room, hoping the décor wasn’t indicative of his qualifications as an otolaryngologist. All the others in town were closed for the holiday. The artworks showed truly horrific taste, made more sickening by the realization that the good doctor was himself the artist. A garish neon abstract took up most of the wall facing me, and was accompanied by a plaque bearing its title: “In which the enchanted mariner ducks out of the saloon to escape constables attired in striped scarlet luminescent work-coats.” Above my head was a matted atrocity, a low relief with pubic hair, evidently meant to signify the feathery roots of his water hyacinths. I heard raised voices, first a woman shrieking something about being behind schedule, and then a man bellowing “Stop quoting Lewis Carroll at me!” I supposed I’d chosen a bad week to tear a larynx.

bonus points for using them in order!

Jen’s Take

by jenThe great artist and his assistant stood by in their striped scarlet luminescent work-coats while the phalanx of critics examined his latest creation.

“You say it’s called ‘enchanted mariner ducks,’ and yet I detect nothing of the waterfowl in its design,” said the most unctuous of the bunch, a man known to be overly fond of the feathery roots of his water hyacinths, if you know what I mean.

“Curious, isn’t it,” said Hieronymus Warhol.

“This is clearly a bas-relief, and yet under ‘medium’ you have declared that it is ‘low relief with pubic hair.’ Not only is that not a real medium, it’s also disgusting!”

“Curiouser and curiouser,” replied Warhol.

“Stop quoting Lewis Carroll at me!” cried the critic.

“As soon as you tear a larynx,” drawled the artist. “Preferably your own.”

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What do you think? Who handled this prompt better?

Object Lesson!

During October we will be sharing passages that we’ve written independently from the same prompt.

  • object lesson!
  • their moans and their heavy breathing
  • clay and seashell stew
  • the bared teeth of the cornered carnivore
  • in a robe of some plastic fabric

Jen’s Take

by jenMargaret stared at the TV in horror. She was watching the new DVD release of Season 1 of her favorite childhood cartoon, “Crustacean Clay and Seashell Stew,” and not until that moment did she realize how heavy the homoeroticism on the show was.

Seashell Stew gave Crustacean Clay a massage while Crustacean Clay was in a robe of some plastic fabric that made disturbing rustling sounds under Seashell Stew’s hands. Later the duo went to the gym to wrestle, and their moans and their heavy breathing sounded unmistakeably sexual to Margaret’s scandalized ears.

She caught her own reflection in the mirror above the TV and was surprised to see she sported the bared teeth of the cornered carnivore.

“To anyone who wishes to relive their innocent childhoods, let this be a cautionary object lesson!” Margaret cried in horror.

 

Kent’s Take

I recognized Milton and Dante by their moans and their heavy breathing before I entered the room and saw them entwined in an old shower curtain. They were like a tantric Hindu god in a robe of some plastic fabric.

“Now that is one kinky object lesson!” I crowed. Then I cackled and ran out the back door and into the surf, my feet churning the clay and seashell stew, seasoning it with acute discomfort.

In the failing light, it took me too long to understand what the receding tide had done. The cove was cut off by a sandbar about 30 yards out, and in the pathetic little lake of saltwater it embraced loomed a strange dark shape. A killer whale trapped in the shallows.

The bared teeth of the cornered carnivore gleamed in the moonlight.

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What do you think? Who handled this prompt better?