Monday, May 31, 2010

Now for something completely different

Ever wonder where ideas for stories come from? Have you ever told yourself that you could write a great book if you could just come up with an idea? That's where it all begins. So we're going to do a little writing exercise today that just may spark a totally new idea in your head. And then again, it may not.

I'm going to start things off with an opening paragraph. Then you, gentle readers, will continue the story in whatever direction it may lead. Please read all the comments and then add your paragraph to keep things going. The objective is to add to the story, take it in a different direction if you'd like, but try to maintain the POV and the voice. So here's where we're starting.

My tongue found blood when I licked my upper lip. It wasn't a steady, gushing stream, though. Just a continual trickle from my nose. A salty red nose tear that my tongue couldn't stay away from. My ears burned in response to the giggles from the circle of onlookers surrounding the three of us in the school parking lot. I knew we shouldn't have shown up. We could have have avoided it. Could have gotten ourselves detention so we would have an excuse for backing down. John wanted to, but I told him we couldn't do it. I was tired of running from this guy. I hoped one bloody nose would be the end of it. Conjoined twins aren't the best at street fighting.

So, there you go. Take it from there. The torch is passed.


  1. “You’re bleeding.” John pulled a graying handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to me. I dabbed at my nose, wincing as I touched a tender bit. Across from us, Davey watched, eyes hooded, blazing the same hatred they had since the first moment he laid eyes on us.
    “Freaks,” he snarled.
    “D’uh!” John spat the word, surprising me with his bravery. He lunged toward Davey, fury twisting his usually mild features. I followed, dragged along by his momentum, raising my single fist as we neared the hulking figure of the older boy. Behind us, other kids shouted a mixture of insults and encouragement, their voices blending into a dull roar.

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  4. The thoughts rushed through his mind as he smashed his fist into Davey's face, harder and harder. The rage that filled him was intoxicating. Luke new that he had to use that rage if he was going to win this fight, and show everyone, once and for all, that freaks could hold their own and defend themsleves for once.

    Davey pulled his left arm back and would've hit Luke square in the jaw if Sally hadn't stepped in and punched him across his right cheek.

    Sally was Luke's best friend and fellow "freak." She loved him, but Luke didn't know, that's why she helped to pulverize Davey.

  5. With my fist, I gave Davey and upper cut. Wham! Then I smashed him in the ear. Whack! He poked me in the eye with his finger. Pop! So I kicked him in the nuts.

    “Eeeeeow!” He grabbed his crotch with both hands and fell towards our chest.

    We pushed him away. “Get off!”

    “Can’t,” he whined. “I’m gonna be sick.” He opening his mouth and retched, “Bleeuuughhh!”

    “Oh, yuck!” we said in unison. Our shirt was covered in stinky yellow puke.

    John head-butted him in the nose “Understand that!”.

  6. Hi Cornell!
    Thanks for following me on twitter and letting me know about your blog. You have lots of good information. I just became a follower. Please visit my blog and follow me back. Randi

  7. Hi Cornell,
    Just messaged you but forgot to include my blog address! Thanks!!!!


  8. Hey Randi Fine, ya better get outa the way 'cause you're in the middle of a schoolyard brawl here. You don't wanna get coverd in puke, do ya? That stinky Davey chundered all over our belly and we're gonna make him eat it. Oooha, he just smacked our two heads together. That bloody hurt.

    That was your fault, Finey, ya came on the wrong post and got in the way, stupid. Understand that!

  9. "Hey! Where’s everybody gone?" I must have got concussion when that creep, Davey, banged our heads together. "Where’s everybody gone?" I pulled John’s hair, but he won’t wake up. Shit! That means I’ll have to drag him home. Life sucks sometimes.


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