When I get a little blocked or don’t have enough time to focus on my writing project I normally use a writing prompt. There are quite a few and I’m plugging my friend and fellow writer friend Feath Pym who runs an extensive database of prompts on her site feath.com.
I like her prompts because I can get a story just using them – she promised to make them into a book as well.Yay.
For now I’m on a short hiatus (also from my blog) but I feel once in a while the need to dip into the writing pool. So let me give a demonstration, I went to her site and went to thriller so go the below results. Interesting. I’ll pick what’s interesting to me.
Type of thriller is a military thriller.
Optional: the story’s sub-genre is shonun manga.
The plot includes a door in a coffin.
Theme point is covetousness.
Character type included is telekinesis.
Your story will start at a travel departure point.
The story will include 1 explosion, 1 motorcycle chase, and an inventor.
Your MC is a woman who is disabled and is ex-Navy. She is living in a grave yard.
With more money than she needs, she sometimes gets a job organizational infiltrator when she’s bored.
On the job and everything was fine until it all went to hell.
So this is my start of my story.
Londy Anderson hated being called a basic. There was nothing basic about her. She’d serviced three tours of duty and got her leg blown off in the last one. That wasn’t basic. In fact the government called her fucking heroic. Yet…
She stubbed out her cigarette in the ashtray and reached for a donut, thinking of the word yet. Her purple heart hung in a special display on the mantle piece, staring at her. Yet…
She shook her head trying to get rid of the word yet, for after if she pondered a little more, she’d be thinking what if, and if only. Fuck that, she wasn’t in the mood for regrets or navel grazing. She’d already had enough therapy to last her several life times.. She was where she was and life was what it was. Still…
The phone rang – it’s shrill sound putting paid to all her wondering thoughts.
“Hey, Londy speaking.” She picked up her cigarette and lit it again.
“Major, it’s Colonel Smith here. I need you on base at 1400hrs.”
“Discharge mean anything to you, sir?” She sucked hard at her cigarette. This was the last thing she needed.
“1400hrs, Anderson, and that is an order.”
Before she could say a word, the phone went dead.
====end of prompt===
So yeah, this is kind of stuff that Feath’s prompt can get my creative juices going. I may or may not develop it into a story but it’s a good start – maybe a thriller or romance. So if you ever needed some inspiration check www.feath.com out.
Even if you are stuck for something to happen…