tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62242268831238688662011-07-08T05:28:33.588-07:00Lacey's Write Club BlogLaceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13097438975071695936noreply@blogger.comBlogger211100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224226883123868866.post-1385535477200210772010-09-25T22:35:00.001-07:002010-09-25T22:38:58.642-07:00

((flash fiction, 200 words, set in a letter game Mary and I are playing. I'm hoping to get more writing practice.))"You did WHAT!"The roar of the dragon. Her name was Pepia, and she was the housekeeper. Ethellia sighed, turned, and shrugged."It's a wonder your head isn't cut off this second!" Pepia roared. "A heathen artifact! For a prince! As an engagement gift!!""It's supposed to bring good --

Laceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13097438975071695936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224226883123868866.post-40963873286938472712008-08-07T10:20:00.000-07:002008-08-07T10:32:13.168-07:00

Never ever make, I sayNever make an assumptionIt's easy to do, heyGot a lot of gumptionWhen you make a presumptionNever ever make, I sayNever make an assumptionCause when you do that, heyYou make an ass of "U" and "Mption."When you make a presumption!

Laceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13097438975071695936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224226883123868866.post-92214861123761746132008-08-07T10:18:00.001-07:002008-08-07T10:19:57.035-07:00

Write a 101-word short story.(If you need inspiration check out Ommatidia.)Due Thursday, Aug. 14.Erica's tagged for the next prompt.

Laceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13097438975071695936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224226883123868866.post-44471539265847996812008-07-30T19:20:00.000-07:002008-07-30T19:25:14.623-07:00

I woke up when Jesus cameI was witness to his fameOnce was war without cease;Now a brand of death called peace.Silence ever was his foodAs he ate he soured the mood.He was friends with one called PainI woke up when Jesus came.

Laceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13097438975071695936noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224226883123868866.post-85580067409278725902008-07-23T08:35:00.000-07:002008-07-23T09:07:31.683-07:00

Her long-sleeve shirt clung to her like a second skin on that unusually warm November day. I found Susanna barefoot and bent unnaturally over the Adirondack chair in her mom's backyard, with her face a few inches above the grass. Her glasses lay broken beside her."Suze!" I cried, and raced over, but she was long dead; the bullet had left a bloody trail through her body, now contorted and draped

Laceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13097438975071695936noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224226883123868866.post-79822701924076806592008-07-23T08:31:00.000-07:002008-07-23T08:33:04.897-07:00

I'll give you two paragraphs from different stories - one to start your piece and one to end it. Write the connectors in the middle!Feel free to change the paragraphs too for names or third person/first person or... anything!1. "Her long-sleeve shirt clung to her like a second skin on that unusually warm November day. Peter found Susanna barefoot and bent over in the Adirondack chair in her mom's

Laceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13097438975071695936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224226883123868866.post-86091541182278969612008-07-17T10:58:00.000-07:002008-07-23T08:34:43.743-07:00

Jack Dawkins looked across the table. The buxom blond was chewing gum, rolling it about with her tongue and working her jaw rapidly."So, miss... Nancy, is it?" he said. "I see you've got quite an unusual list of references."She chewed her gum faster. "Yeah, well. Just ask any of 'em, I'm the best at what I do.""And you don't get caught?" he prompted, glancing at her hands. "You have light fingers

Laceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13097438975071695936noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224226883123868866.post-33091206101588287562008-07-14T08:25:00.000-07:002008-07-14T08:28:06.803-07:00

This prompt comes from Bryan:A case of mistaken identity!*tags Lacey* You're it!Story due Thursday, July 17, 2008.

Laceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13097438975071695936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224226883123868866.post-85531066211775367652008-07-09T22:21:00.000-07:002008-07-09T22:48:32.408-07:00

There once was an impatient mapleWho grew foolishly fast as he was able.The wind blew up his skirt,He tore loose from the dirt,And starred posthumous in this pro-patience fable.A response to Prompt 6

Laceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13097438975071695936noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224226883123868866.post-86225054313108505062008-07-05T13:58:00.000-07:002008-07-05T16:09:44.676-07:00

This prompt is from Evan:A fable.Story due Thursday, July 10.Bryan tagged for the next prompt.

Laceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13097438975071695936noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224226883123868866.post-80686836144860853842008-07-03T08:21:00.000-07:002008-07-03T09:10:14.899-07:00

There was silence."Er," said Claude. "That's all."Vinny sat back in his seat. His face twisted in displeasure, but his fingers withdrew mercifully from the button. "I have more sins than that, you know.""Yes, sir," Claude agreed hastily. As an afterthought: "Most of your sins have probably never seen the daylight. There's no way I could recite them all.""You could have found a lot more than one,"

Laceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13097438975071695936noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224226883123868866.post-40947403716781070802008-06-26T16:23:00.000-07:002008-06-26T16:42:33.596-07:00

This prompt comes from Aron:The end of the world...Story due July 3.Evan has been tagged for the next prompt.

Laceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13097438975071695936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224226883123868866.post-13385775439862747062008-06-26T13:39:00.000-07:002008-07-03T09:17:32.000-07:00

The door opened; the door closed. Invisible, silent, Claude was careful not to track mud on Vinny's rug lest the telltale moisture give his physical presence away.Vinny was snoozing at his desk with his back to the door. No doubt his thugs were working Chicago's not-so-sunny streets for blood money. The crime lord hadn't done his own dirty work in half a decade.Now for the scare of your life, old

Laceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13097438975071695936noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224226883123868866.post-76887791192002599162008-06-18T09:58:00.000-07:002008-06-18T12:52:38.747-07:00

"Speak now, or forever hold your peace."Jason says: Take it literally or interpret it; include the phrase in your work or include the spirit of the phrase. It's up to you.Due Thursday, June 26, 2008.Aron's been tagged for the next prompt.

Laceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13097438975071695936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224226883123868866.post-8548306642328930512008-06-17T19:57:00.000-07:002008-06-17T22:24:40.564-07:00

Trembling like tiny ice crystals beneath an unforgiving summer sun, a thousand glass vials precisely nestled in the time machine's carefully-chilled core waited helplessly for their doom.Doctor Malone thought she might be killed in order to protect these fragile essentials from her crushing, murderous hands, yet no one waited for her in the core chamber. No armed guards shouted at her to stop,

Laceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13097438975071695936noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224226883123868866.post-26128375190742805122008-06-17T19:44:00.000-07:002008-06-17T19:46:42.758-07:00

Prompt 3 comes from Cedar:"A broken time machine."Jason's been tagged for the next prompt. Prompt 3's story will be due Thursday, June 19, 2008.

Laceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13097438975071695936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224226883123868866.post-72341598072763714962008-06-11T16:23:00.000-07:002008-06-11T17:53:30.301-07:00

"There is nothing untimely about demise."For example, Aunt Crystal," I noted aloud. "She died young, had little ones--I'd call it an unfortunate demise, even... a surprise demise." I grinned at the unexpected poetry. "But never untimely. Do you," I said, "remember Aunt Crystal, or were you too young?"The portly gray-suited man in my living room said nothing. He continued to stare around my house,

Laceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13097438975071695936noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224226883123868866.post-82929301112416967032008-06-04T16:37:00.000-07:002008-06-04T16:39:17.510-07:00

This one comes from Erica. Cedar's been tagged for the next prompt.Setting: A condemned house.Subject: A pocket watch.Due Thurs., June 12!

Laceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13097438975071695936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224226883123868866.post-87268605237849007092008-06-01T11:13:00.000-07:002008-06-04T11:31:09.661-07:00

(The prompt for this one is the poem in italics here.)He had but one flower – not a bouquet, not a wreath, just a single flower. This he pressed into her hands. "Its fair petals are but a faint reflection of the beauty in your eyes, Lady Dulcina," he told her. She blushed. "Fair words, good sheppard," she said sweetly. "I have only a small favor to offer you in return. And when you have won

Laceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13097438975071695936noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224226883123868866.post-22218970161914637622008-06-01T11:01:00.000-07:002008-06-01T11:08:23.123-07:00

I've decided to re-purpose this old Magazine Writing blog for the Write Club. It's still bear wrestling (I mean, writing practice) but this time it's with fiction instead of fact.Fuzzy! Fun!The Rules: We each have one week from the sending of the prompt to write a short story (or poem or whatever) inspired by the prompt. Then we read and comment on each other's stories. Then we wrestle a bear. Er

Laceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13097438975071695936noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224226883123868866.post-9017796334204331342007-09-10T10:27:00.000-07:002007-09-10T11:11:22.400-07:00

I'm a fire chaser by nature. I like police logs, boring city council meetings, traffic reports. "Hard" news - and therefore, hard news writing.I also like video games - and sometimes, I relate to them. I've been relating to a game called "Psychonauts" lately. This game is set in a kid's summer camp - complete with bugs, outhouses, bullies, and wildlife. One of the characters, a Russian child, is

Laceyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13097438975071695936noreply@blogger.com1