What is the source? Pete scanned the pages of the journal in a haste of inquisition. It has to be in here somewhere! The sun finally disappeared behind the horizon, and the only illumination in the room was a lamp that sat on the desk where he sat. (more…)
This segment will kick ass! Every week I will post some type of prompt to help inspire and get the creative juices flowing. You post a link in the comments section (or the entire story) and share your creation. I will also be writing my story inspired by the prompt, and will upload it to the site when it is complete.
This week I was asked the question in school, “Can you pick any item in the room or the world, and create a story about it? I was then requested to do so; this is what the prompt will be this week. I am going to give you a list of objects in the world, and you are going to create a story about one of them. I think you will find that it can be a real mind workout! (more…)
I wanted to get a quick post out and apologize that I have been unable to get my daily writings published for the past two days. I am currently working on an analytical paper on William Faulkner’s Absalom, Absalom! If you have not read it yet, I have one word, WOW! (more…)
Here goes nothing. Rachel’s gun was in her hand, and she stood just outside the door. With a swift kick, the door snapped open sending splinters inward. The four men inside the room were already on their feet and reaching for their guns. Rachel unloaded two shots into the man closest to his gun and another into the one who was charging her. The remaining two men in the room reached their guns and began firing into the doorway where Rachel stood. (more…)
John sat at the table in the local cafe and enjoyed his coffee while reading the daily paper. A man in a tuxedo sat down at his table and placed his briefcase on the floor. He leaned back into the chair and opened his paper. John, bewildered, stared at him attempting to make eye contact before speaking. It never came. (more…)
Jaime sat on a rock near the river and threw rocks at the fish that came up to eat the bugs from the surface. He never hit any, but he liked to see them scurry back into the depths, or maybe it was the fear he caused them that he really enjoyed. Jaime had been coming down to the river every day after school since he was six years old. He would hang his backpack on the same tree branch, throw his shirt on the same bush, and jump up on the same rock. He would stand up tall, put his hands on his hips, and say, “I am not afraid of you. You will fear me.” (more…)
Ever since I started this blog, I have felt compelled to write every single day. It is a fantastic feeling. It is so hard to write when you get off of a twelve-hour work day, but with this blog I feel obligated to keep the content flowing. So any aspiring writers out there, I suggest starting a blog and making a promise to your community. That will help you keep your word and continue to write, which is the most important part! (more…)
“What brave man dare stand against me?”
The man in the arena was huge, and he had just ripped a guy in half. He walked around the inner circle of the arena scanning the crowd for a contender; none dared meet his fierce gaze. Enoch brushed off the bits of entrails that had fallen on him during the previous fight and poured a cup of water on his sweat-soaked head.
When the Champion rounded Enoch’s portion of the circle, Enoch broke the ceramic cup over his head and kicked him in the chest, sending him reeling backwards. Enoch jumped off of the arena wall and landed a few inches away from the Champion’s head after he rolled to avoid the killing blow. The Champion was on his feet now, staring at Enoch when blood began to trickle down his face.
Sweet! The kickoff to my daily writing series has arrived. I realize some of these will suck, but writing through the block is the best way to write better. Enjoy!
The baseball bat caved in his skull.
“That’ll do it,” Vincent said. “How many more do we have today, Jimmy?”
Tossing a handkerchief to Vincent, Jimmy rose from his chair and joined him in the center of the room, patting him on the back, “As many as it takes, Vince. As many as it takes.” (more…)
First I’m running through a golden field of wheat, nothing but mountains in the distance and the blue sky above. With my hands fully stretched out, I can feel the tips of each piece of wheat as it gently brushes against the palms of my hands. The grain begins to shrink below my hands, but I realize it’s not shrinking, I am growing. Then I realize I’m not growing, I am flying. (more…)