Super Quick and Wonderfully New!

Here are some of the writing prompts from earlier in the year that I wanted to share with you all. We've had an influx of new talent on Wednesdays, and even though this next writer can't be with us this semester, I wanted to share his wonderful work.

Man grasped dangerous

By Beau

“Man grasped the dangerous bone, the rib. Eve.” Ester pronounced the line doubtfully.  She didn’t like this kind of poetry.

“There is a theory, you know, that the bone from which Eve was made was not a rib at all.  ‘Rib’ is a euphemism for a part more, um, intimate to a man.”  Riley looked sideways at Ester as he drove.

“What could be more intimate than ripping a bone out of your side?,” she asked, turning toward him in the seat and poking him in the ribs.

“That would be the os baculum. Do you know what that is?” Riley had spent a year in anatomy school before giving up on being a doctor.

“The bacon bone?” she offered, playfully.

“Nope. The penis bone.” Riley smiled as she wrinkled her nose.

“Is there such a thing?”

“Walruses have them.  And opossums.”

“Men don’t have a penis bone,” she pronounced.

“Not any more.  Eve took it.” 

 

This one is from Angela

"This part is dangerous," Kenetis Master said with a chuckle.  The carpet dropped suddenly, and Kora's stomach flipped.   "You can do it," the man insisted.  "Drop it, then recover.  Go on."

"How is this a useful skill?" Kora demanded.

"Letting go-- not so much, though at some point you'll want to give control to another Technician in a stressful situation.  But the recovering, stopping the fall-- that's what you'll need to learn.  And you're good, my dear.  You're already good.  Show me."

Kora nodded and took control of the carpet.  Something in the Master's quirky grin made her want to prove herself.  The carpet dropped. 

And kept dropping.

Kenetis Master gasped, and she felt him struggle to take back the carpet, but she resisted.  The fall stopped, not suddenly with a jerk, but gently, softly, and then began once more to rise.  

The quirky smile had returned to the Master's tan lips.  "I told you you were good!" he repeated.   He took her hand and grasped it to his chest, and once more her stomach flipped.  

I'm looking forward to seeing many of you this Wednesday. The theme for March is Non-Human Romance, but of course, feel free to bring any of your work to share. See you all soon!

Good Afternoon, Friends!

A few bits of news and then I'll post some writing from one of our members.
1. Our next meeting is on February 1st. The theme for the month is time travel.
2. If you haven't seen Karen and Josh Leet's non-fiction book, Civil War Lexington, KY: Bluegrass Breeding Ground of Power, you can check it out (and purchase) here.
3. Several writing events are coming up in the next few months, including Script Frenzy, and Camp NanoWrimo. The National Ten Minute Play Contest has moved to the end of the year, so we can revisit that in the fall.
4. We've had several new regular attendees, and I'd like to give them a shout out for being such awesome additions to our group. Thank you Beau, Jay, and Pat!

In December, the theme was: stories that feature a favorite author. Karen gave me permission to post this on the sight, so here it is.

Five Authors in Search of a Character

By Karen Leet

"Back off, Koontz - I saw him first," warned Stephen King.

"You think you're so big and bad," Dean Koontz snapped back. "Just because every bleeding book you write makes a TV series or a blockbuster movie. You're not so big - I could take you down a peg or three or four."

"Yeah," King sneered. "You and what army, buddy?"

The old master stepped between the horror yuppies in time to prevent mayhem and/or bloodshed between the two best selling authors.

Edgar Allen Poe cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. "I might not have been a best seller, but in my day, I rocked the literary world."

King sneered in silent scorn. Koontz ducked his head in a sort of reverent awe.

"That you did, Master Poe," Koontz acknowledged and glared at King. "You set the stage for the rest of us, and anybody with half a brain - who can't act to save his life - admits that."

King's frown caused Poe to hold out both hands to keep the two best sellers apart.

The woman watching laughed. "Oh come on, boys. Not one of you have a clue. Can you make teenage girls squeal in delighted terror? Can you stop middle aged women in their tracks and sigh fro lost youthful opportunities? Can you pull in mega bucks every time?"

She crossed her arms and smiled a huge Cheshire cat grin. "Nobody outdoes my Twilight series, boys -- you might as well give it up. The character is mine, all mine. Look at him. He's perfect for me - pale, bloodless, heartless, hopeless. What teenage girl wouldn't pass out cold at the glint in those colorless eyes? Besides, he's a mass murderer - I definitely need one of those."

"Get in line," Koontz snapped.

"In your dreams, Vampire Princess," King agreed.

"Now, now," Poe soothed. "Let's stay civil about this."

"Ha!" Stephenie Meyers laughed. "These two together couldn't find a definition for the word if Webster himself got out of his grave to help. And, say, Poe, speaking of being dead, dead, dead, aren't you..."

"Never mind that," Poe cut her off. "We need to work this out. We've got one character and five of us wanting him." He glanced at the silent member of their group and asked, "You are here in search of a character, right?"

The silent author nodded vigorous agreement.

"Yes, well then, let's find a fair way..." began Poe.

King interrupted. "I say, lets' do a King Solomon - and they claim I don't have any religion - hmmph. I say we chop our character into five equal portions - dibs on the heart!"

Koontz sighed. "You just don't get it," he told King. "The point of the Bible story is..."

"Who cares," king snarled. "I get the heart - get it, Poe? The heart is mine and I'll tell no tales!"

Poe bowed his head. Koontz leapt at King, grabbing his rival's throat with clawed fingers. Meyers dove into the fray, pummeling both King and Koontz.

The silent author glided forward, led away the hapless mass murderer, humming happily. "Oh, my," said prim and proper Jane Austen, "you are such a wonderfully brooding fellow - exactly my type!"

In a day or two, I'll get you more caught up on writing prompts from meetings, but I wanted to pose a question to my writing friends out there. Let's say you have the characters, but you are in need of the story. What do you do?

Well, hi there!

This is just the post that precedes the real post. Contrary to popular belief, all the fish in the bowl are STILL ALIVE and we have in fact, had growth among our ranks!
So. Tune back in this afternoon for some writing prompts, news and other tidbits sure to stimulate the writing bug in your soul.