WRITER'S DIGEST / YOUR STORY competition #56 - My entry

Prompt: Write a short story, of 750 words or fewer, that begins with the following line of dialogue: “If you can guess what I have in my pocket, you can have it.”

(You can be funny, poignant, witty, etc.; it is, after all, your story.) You can submit your words to this prompt here:  Writer's Digest Your Story Competition #56

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
CLOWNS - WE WANT TO HAVE FUN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Here is my little ditty:

          “If you can guess what I have in my pocket, you can have it.”  Thirty bobbing waist high party quaffed little heads made me wish I had a dramamine in my pocket. “I can’t hear you if you all yell at once.” I knew from experience that one of these prepubescent groupies yelled dog. They’ve already got with the program that the clown was going to make some kind of simulated animal once the the balloons came out of the bulging pocket of my floppy black, yellow, and white checkered clown costume. Besides, at their age you could make a giraffe, call it a dog, and the little smurf’s would be happy with that!

 Without warning I felt the direct hit from a good sized water gun drench my ear down to my ear drum. I turned just in time to see a freckled faced towhead bending over with laughter, cajoled on by his little friends, who quickly constrained themselves as soon as my clown face eyes found the shooter. “What do you think is in my other pocket you little gangster?! I never let myself be surrounded by the enemy unarmed!,” and I was returning fire before my inappropriate retort had reached their little ears, enjoying how quick my draw had become, I hadn’t become a clown just yesterday ya know, and the fact that my water pistol was bigger than this little waif’s made me cocky. “Run for your lives!” I yelled. The whole assembly of little munchkins scattered.

In the middle of the chaos stood the little birthday girl, her perfect blond ringlets were starting to droop from being in the crossfire of the water gun war, but she had a determined defiance plastered on her face. Not one to run to mommy. I like this girl. “Why don’t I have a gun?! It’s my birthday!!” She shouted out.

Since I was the hired clown I felt obligated to cover the defenseless little princess. I duck and weave, duck and weave, and roll the last three feet to her side. “Here you go Sally! Do you know how to use one of these things?” I was willing to entrust my spare water gun that I keep in my back clown pants pocket.

“Uh-huh.”

Water began pouring off my big red nose. “Don’t shoot me Sally! I’m the one that came to save you! C’mon, let’s go get ‘em.” The now smiling ear to ear birthday girl and I charged the ornery boys like the mighty light brigade. I was glad to be on Sally’s side by now.

Just as I was thinking this was the best birthday party I’d ever been a clown to, I saw the Mother step out the sliding door on the patio with a scowl plastered on her face. I walked to the center of the battle field making the truce sign with my hands. “Alright kids...truce..hold on for a minute.” Wow. These are good kids; they actually stopped. I would have liked to stayed longer, but I knew what was coming.

There I was standing on the wrong side of the door stoop again; way before the party was over again. “Yes ma’am. I understand. But, you really should have gotten your head out of your bourbon and provided some adult supervision for those kids outside of the hired clown.”

BAM!!!! Another door slammed in my face.

 “Yeah! You heard me female from the kennel person!!!” Now I wish I had a tylenol in my pocket. 

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

WRITING FUN - Writing Prompt

Write a story about a paperclip. Limit your story to 150 words. Include the words 'London', 'desk', and 'archive'. And write it in 20 minutes.
(I got this prompt from following Tiffany Jenson's writer's blog.) She has a lot to teach to us who aspire to write.


     First I must disclose that I did not complete this little ditty within the twenty minute challenge. It took me fifty minutes, but I should be able to knock off a couple more minutes because I was eating a pot pie at the same time.

     I was amazed at how helpful it was to "attempt" to write within a short time limit. It jarred my mind out of the self conscious writers block mode, into a sense of whew, look at me I'm writing! So, thank you Tiffany for throwing this little exercise out there for us beginner's to sink our baby writer's teeth into.

     Here is my little ditty:

          Sarah stood wringing her handkerchief around her finger until circulation had stopped and her index finger turned blue. Finally the pain set in enough to cause her to let go of it. "So your telling me my records are lost because of a paperclip?" It was a large paperclip encased in pink plastic, heavy on the few papers it held together before she laid them on the consulates desk in the hotel she was staying at in London. Seems it fell off her vital records. The consulate held it out to her. "Yea, I'd want it back if I could teach it to talk. Then it could tell you where, when, and in what country I was born, and I could go back to America!" Sarah snatched the big pink paperclip out of the consulate's hand. "Because I used this big pretty pink paperclip my papers aren't in the archive!"
(150 words exactly)


So kids, join the writing fun.  What else are you going to do while you're waiting to open your presents?  Slap your 150 words in the comment area below this post. Then you can eat your pot pie!

A Non-Human Point of View / Writer's Digest writing prompt

Write an end-of-days story from a non-human point of view (animal, tree, insect, cloud, etc.).*Post your response (500 words or fewer).

What I wrote:

I haven't smelled vanilla or peppermint for weeks. No sweet treats, why live.  I've had my antennae out for fellow roaches to no avail. How far and fast did we all run when the colossal blast hit. No organic waste left to clean up. Not one hair. I feel dry, and worse yet there is mold close by. I feel it in my antennae. This is not good. Too bad my buddy roach lost his head in the colossal blast, but at least we made the most out of the remaining seven days without his head. The last sac of eggs from him are nymphs now. My little family would live more harmoniously in a larger group. Where are the throngs of roaches?! What’s wrong?! Poor little ones haven't even experienced what a sweet tastes like. What it’s like to crawl all over other little nymphs in a crowd large enough to feel the world is right. I feel so dry. So dry. I would die just to smell a sweet right now. Without the taste of peppermint the world might as well end. I’d give all three knees on all six legs just to smell a sweet. There hasn't been any organic waste for a month, and sweets, oh sweets! for longer than that. What I wouldn't give for the sweet smell of a peppermint candy smashed on the ground somewhere. The world is done if there are no sweets. 

There are no more sweets.

Writer's Digest Contest #53

I just want to let you know that I am busy writing things other than book reviews. Right now I'm working on a little ditty for the Writer's Digest Your Story contest. They have one, a Your Story contest  in every issue of their magazine. I have made a few attempts before. Refer to my previous post:

Writer's Digest Contest #47

http://beamingrae.blogspot.com/2012/12/writers-digest-contest-47.html


So here are the entry rules for Writer's Digest Contest #53 - Write a short story of 750 words or fewer based on the prompt below. You can be funny, witty, etc; after all it is your story.

Prompt:    A girl puts a quarter in a gumball machine and a human tooth comes out.

The deadline is October 14th, 2013.

Little Lord What You Gonna Do This Year

This is Little Lord What You Gonna Do This Year serenading Little Miss I Don't Know.  His song is a pleasant melodic blend of voice and lute, enticing  Little Miss to succumb to the creative flow whirling around her and throughout the world; to stay in tune, and keep her seat in life's harmonious symphony through 2013 and forever. 

"I will not rest on my laurels", Little Miss says. "But keep my eyes and heart open all year long, and beyond."

A laurel for my muse.  Bring it on 2013.