Time To Write: A Book [Creative Writing Prompt]


The book was coming along a treat. The plot was clearly cemented in my mind and as I worked daily on the tale I found myself totally engrossed in the process of creation.

The characters I spent weeks on as each individual was fleshed out, detailed, edited, re-detailed and given a clear and concise purpose within the text.

I wanted my villain to be obvious; to be for the reader a character they disliked but at the same time saw some ‘redeeming’ features.

It was hard work creating characters with dimension. The flaws of personality, weaknesses they each portrayed helped to build the story and the layers within it.

It was going to be a best seller, I could feel it in my bones and I told my mother it was definitely the case.

The only issue, as another tangential thought struck me, was to get the thoughts from my head to the computer.


Written for: https://rachelpoli.com/2018/06/15/time-to-write-a-book-creative-writing-prompt/

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Sunday Writing Prompt – Teachers


The early morning arrives far too soon for the young teacher. It’s to be his first day, and already the heat of the summer is upon him.

They have sent him to a small town at the top of the valley, and he’s pleased, as he wasn’t sure how he’d handle a city school. He has his clothes laid out and ready. In his brief case are a few lesson ideas he gathered while at the Teacher’s College.

As much as possible he wants to make a good impression on the other staff with whom he’ll be working. He dresses securing his tie, even though it is now seven thirty he breaks out in a sweat but knows he has to dress as professionally as he can. After all, he is young and looks it.

In his old car, he arrives at the school on top of the hill. It’s a cluster of old wooden buildings; the main office the only building you’d think anyone has cared for.

The Principal conducts the staff meeting where he surveys a few young teachers such as himself. After the English/History faculty meets, all three of them. The head is an older woman and the other teacher a man a little older than him but with set ideas about teaching, the school and the kids.

He goes home the first day, his teaching program in his bag and sets to work writing his lessons for the next day.

The next day he is at school early to run off copies of work he wants his classes to do, he has been told they need to be kept busy, and he has to be organised.

In one class he meets an outspoken girl who looks at him seeing the young man he is. Over time they become friends, she invites him to the farm she lives on, shows him stock work, sheep management and one day invites him to help collect the hay bails and store them in the old barn. She is her father’s right hand ‘man’ the eldest of four girls.

Their relationship is very relaxed, and at years end she presents him with a wallet she has made from leather. It has his initial on the front, and he is very flattered she thinks so highly of him.

But by years end he leaves, moves to the city where married life and children take over his every day.

They stay friends for several years until as so often happens, life occurs, and he moves once again this time far away.

They drift into their respective lives and soon lose contact. One often wonders what became of the other.

Some forty years later the old teacher finds the wallet she made, still in as good nick as the day she made it.

He holds it in his hands and wonders what became of her, would she even recognise him now.

The old teacher remembers her as the sassy young girl in his class. Over the years there were many like her who were gobbled up by life beyond school leaving him to hope he made some positive contribution to their lives.


Written for: https://mindlovemiserysmenagerie.wordpress.com/2018/06/17/sunday-writing-prompt-teachers/

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Weekend Writing Prompt #59 – Typewriter


The tap, tap, taping, was never ending.

The old typewriter, in need of much repair, he’d found in the attic gave it a new lease on life.

I set him up in the spare room where I could shut the door and deafen the incessant noise.

He was on a mission to write his first novel. He had ideas coming thick and fast, and he had to get them down.

I didn’t get to see him apart from meal times. I missed him, but he didn’t appear to miss me. When he did come out conversation was about how his novel was going.

I did all I could to encourage him, but after a while, the conversation grew tiring. He was full of ideas, the tapping continued for a whole week, and still, there was no manuscript.

The old typewriter kept chugging away, his novel subject to its whims.


Written for: https://sammiscribbles.wordpress.com/2018/06/16/weekend-writing-prompt-59-typewriter/

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June 14: Flash Fiction Challenge – Bouquet


June 14, 2018, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a story that includes a bouquet. You can explore the meaning of the word or gather a bunch of flowers. Go where the prompt leads.

She had written me a note about visiting her aging father. He was more spritely than she imaged, so happy to see her but it was clear the years had ravaged him. Living so far away left her feeling desperate to do more for him. But life had intervened, and her hands were tied.

Her note left me in no doubt as to how she felt. She was a beautiful woman full of compassion and love. I bought a bouquet of native resilient blooms designed to lift her spirits and demonstrate how much I loved and cared for her.


Written for: https://carrotranch.com/2018/06/15/june-14-flash-fiction-challenge/

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Photo Prompt – Dilemma


One asked the other their opinion on the dilemma the three of them faced.

One argued the grass was greener on one side compared to the other.

The other argued the opposite.

The third announced that sitting on the fence was not getting them anywhere as they were flock creatures and not agreeing to which direction they should go was only making her hungry.

That, of course, was not to say what the other flocks might say should they split up and go their separate ways. The thought was too much for the one on one leg, a signal, it thought of its superiority over the others but would never say so as uniformity was important to birds of a feather.

That’s the trouble when you’re flocked said one giving the discussion a philosophical touch which unfortunately went over the heads of the other two.

They proceeded to discuss back and forwards as the day went by and at times the chat became quite agitated as one threatened a course of action the others were not in agreement with.

In the end, they decided to fly back home and return the next day to continue their deliberations.


 Written for: https://meetthebloggersblog.wordpress.com/2018/06/13/photo-prompt-2/

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50 Word Thursday #5 – Failed Dreams


“Peter Gericke loved airplanes as some men love horses, with a deep and unswerving passion.”

From Jack Higgins The Eagle Has Landed

Pete’s ambition to have an airfield in his backyard never took in the fact it would end in flames. Heartbroken he left the aircraft remains where it landed and allowed nature to reclaim it. He advertised and created a tourist destination. People came in droves, and he became filthy rich.

A souvenir stall was set up with miniature replicas of the plane, T-shirts and fridge magnets, and an audio-visual display of the planes ill-fated flight. No one survived, but you could buy plastic figures of each crew member. Some thought this in bad taste, but Pete was a businessman.

He had been warned the landing strip was too short, but Pete was ever confident. The plane crashed and ended up across the third tee of his planned golf course. It was all history now, and he had labelled his park, ‘A Place of Failed Dreams’ and his business boomed.


Written for: https://debbiewhittam.wordpress.com/2018/06/14/50-word-thursday-5/


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Thursday photo prompt: Beginnings #writephoto


The first hint of the dawn brings a stirring within the trees on the edge of the forest. The rest and slumber of the darkness comes to a timely end as stomachs rumble, and the search for sustenance awakens within each creature.

Eyes peer inquisitively at the skyline taking in the colour of the dawn, the red tinge hinting of a warm day.

By now the birds are chirping to one another, in their respective flocks they chat as if every second is of great importance. The deafening racket of their conversation drowns out the soft mutterings of the furry creatures who creep along the tree branches watching below for breakfast when it breaks the cover of the leaf-litter.

Now is the time when the forest spirits take their leave. They have looked after the night as the forest in all its forms have rested, and now they dissolve into the landscape.

The hustle and bustle of the forest takes over, the quest for survival is revived, the pecking order of life reinforced as an eagle swoops and takes first pick of the days delicacies.


Written for: https://scvincent.com/2018/06/14/thursday-photo-prompt-beginnings-writephoto/

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