Wow, I made it through this self dared challenge. I’m not sure how successful it was, but I am pleased on how it turned out for me in my writing. Creating a daily writing habit, even if it was just one sentence, made me feel better about jumping back into the fray. It also got the creative juices flowing, getting me to think about different stories and voices. I’m still on the fence about NaNoWriMo but I’m sure running out of time to make up my mind, lol. Okay, so here’s Day seven of the challenge and my last entry of the weeklong prompt. Hope you enjoy.
Not many people today talk about the massacre at the Cayville Public library, but sometimes within the eyes of the survivors you can see there’s a secret in there, perhaps lost or purposely forgotten to protect those who were never seen again.
Sir Edgar in all his dapper refinery was not one to give way to terror, but when he saw the scalpel at the woman’s throat he felt the ripper had won.
Just a couple more days left in the challenge. If you’re just joining me here, the challenge is this: write a story in just one sentence. Sentence can be any length, but once a period is in place, that’s it. So here we go with my attempt on Day 5.
The Bible told him what to do, and though it wasn’t what we would have done, perhaps our minds weren’t quite as twisted as his.
This daily writing challenge is making me want to do the daily writing thing in NaNoWriMo next month. I know I wouldn’t be able to finish the required 50k words this time around, but it is giving me the itch to get back to long form compositions. Okay, so here we go with the challenge at hand today, to tell a story or illustrate a scene in just one sentence. Don’t be afraid to do your own here and post it in the comments. Have fun!
David stood at the tracks, watching the locomotive’s approach, thinking to himself that high school was over and stowing away on a boxcar would carry him to a better place.
It’s day 3 of this personal writing challenge. I’m having fun with this, and I feel like it’s helping motivate me a little. Sometimes I spend a great deal of thinking on what I’m writing, trying to keep characters and events in line with the larger story. But with this challenge I can write off the cuff, not really thinking about where the story will lead. Just getting into the simple act of writing. If you need that kind of motivation, I hope you’ll try the challenge as well. It only requires you to tell a story or show a scene in one sentence. The sentence can be as long as you like, but when you put that period in, that’s it. Here’s mine for today.
My father had a knack for disappearing days at a time, causing both mom and I to wonder if there was another woman, or perhaps a more sinister reason for the gun in his drawer.
As an attempt to get my creative juices flowing again, I thought I would challenge myself, and hopefully challenge other readers/writers as well. So, beginning today I’m starting something I call, “7 days of sentences.” The challenge here is every day for seven days to paint a scene in just one sentence. The sentence can be as lengthy as you like , but once that period is in place, that’s it. The goal here is to create a story in as few words as possible. The story need not be complete, but it does need to describe a scene within that one sentence. In addition, throughout the seven day run, each day’s entry cannot be related to any of the others. At the end of this challenge, you should have seven unrelated sentences that would make starting points for seven different tales. It’s all about creativity and getting motivated to write something. Put your entry in the comments for this post and/or post it in your own blog. Be sure to link it back to this one, so I can read what you came up with. My first day’s attempt is below. Hope you enjoy. Now, let’s have some writing fun!
Rain falls, and Anna watches the stars, wondering if one day she’ll be like a planet colliding with another, knocked off its axis, and spinning wildly into the beautiful darkness.
The piano sits silent. I can’t bring myself to touch the keys, to place nimble fingers on the black and white and produce the smallest measure. I am empty, devoid of music and sound, preferring this, the beauty of the vacuum left behind by my melancholic spirit. I am but the husk of an artist, bewildered by the absence of inspirational thought, or the motivation to create something from the nothing. I long to see the notes again within my mind’s eye, fearing it is now lost, cast out into the void to be found by someone else, who will make more of it than I ever did. The hall is unoccupied, the applause a memory. The piano sits silent. Alone.
Paul D Aronson July 2017