Twittering Tales — Off to a Good Start

BA959738-D238-4B1C-9A90-EB4ADC92B3A9George sat down in front of his Smith Corona typewriter. “Okay, George,” he said to himself. “It starts with one word.” He thought for a moment and then pounded out “It starts with one WORD” on the keyboard.

He stared at the paper. “Around 90,000 more and my novel will be done.”

(278 characters)

Written for the Twittering Tales prompt from Kat Myrman. Photo credit: Pexels at

Weekend Writing Prompt — Daydream Believer


“I thought you were working on your novel,” Justin’s wife said. “But you’re just daydreaming again.”

“No I’m not,” Justin said. “I’m conceptualizing. I’m brainstorming. I’m conjuring. I’m wool-gathering.”

“Yeah, right,” she said. “More like dust-gathering.”

(Exactly 36 words)

B148D346-C857-4A55-8D62-3D3F7F54923CWritten for Sammi Cox’s Weekend Writing Prompt, where we are challenged to write a poem or piece of prose using the word “wool-gathering” in exactly 36 words.

No More Secrets

B146DD40-1000-4519-AEA1-FC1EE5831545“I thought we agreed no more secrets,” Max said to his wife.

“I’m sorry I was late,” Ruth said as she walked into their home at nearly 11:30 at night. “I’m working on that big presentation for the board tomorrow and I lost track of the time.”

“You always come up with good excuses, Ruth,” Max said. “But there is no excuse this time. How about a little honesty for a change?”

“Max, I am not making up excuses and I am being honest with you. And as to secrets, well, Max, we all have secrets,” Ruth said. “I know there are things about you that you haven’t told me, things you think that you don’t share with me, feelings that you don’t express.”

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about, Ruth,” Max said. “I’m talking about your late nights at the firm, your meals at expensive restaurants, your out-of-town trips. No more secrets, remember?”

“I’m not keeping any secrets from you, Max. You know I have a high pressure, very demanding job,” Ruth said. “And it’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make for you, Max. I’m the one who makes enough money at the firm so that you can stay home and work on your novel and interact with all of your little blogging friends.”

“Yes, that’s true. You are the breadwinner,” Max admitted. “But that doesn’t give you carte blanche to run around on me.”

“What are you talking about, Max?” Ruth asked. “Are you accusing me of having an affair? How dare you?”

Max pulled out his smartphone and shoved it toward his wife. “No secrets, huh?” He said. “Then how do explain all of these photos the private detective I hired texted me tonight?”

“Max, I’m no fool,” Ruth said after scrolling through the pictures on Max’s smartphone. “I knew you were having me tailed and so I had all of these photos staged in order to give you fodder for your sexy adult novel.” Ruth gave Max a coquettish smile. “It’s my gift to you.”

“Oh I’m so sorry, Ruth, but I have been keeping a little secret from you, too,” Max said.

“You mean in addition to the one that you hired a private detective to spy on me?” Ruth asked. “What other secret, Max?”

“I decided to shift gears with my book and to write a murder mystery. I was looking for a good motive for the perpetrator, and these photos really help,” Max said, a smug smile on his face. “By the way, Ruth, I fixed you your favorite cocktail before you got home tonight. Drink up, my dear.”

Written for Rachel Poli’s Time To Write: Sentence Starter prompt, where the sentence is “I thought we agreed no more secrets.” And for the Three Things Challenge from The Haunted Wordsmith, where the three things are “sorry,” “late,” and “no excuse.”

#FOWC — A Novel Idea

8a7c6620-57b4-46fa-b8f0-864c76e23b17.png“You embarrassed me this evening,” my wife said. “It was her first day of high school. There was no need for you to have caused such a commotion. My God, what were you thinking?”

“Well, I thought it was a novel idea,” I said in my defense.

“Seriously? You thought serving Alice B. Toklas brownies to a bunch of high school freshman was a good idea?” she yelled. “I should smack you upside your head with that spatula you’re holding in your hand.”

“I thought it would mellow them out, relax them, given the pressure from their first day of high school,” I explained. “I honestly didn’t think it would debilitate them.”

“They’re fifteen year old children, you idiot,” she said. “If their parents find out, and I’m sure they will, you’re going to be swimming in an ocean of shit.”

“Oh stop being such a drama queen,” I said. “Everthing will be fine.” That’s when the doorbell rang. “Ah, saved by the bell,” I said.

I went to the door and opened it up. There were two uniformed police officers standing there. “Mister Marx,” one of them said. “We’ll need you to come with us to the police station.”

“Honey, call our lawyer,” I called out to my wife.

Written for a whole lot of today’s prompts:

I’ll Think About It Tomorrow

I’ve tried it before — twice before, as a matter of fact — but I’ve always run out of steam sometime before the middle of the month. Maybe this year will be different.

I’ve always thought of myself as a potential novelist with the Great American Novel lurking somewhere within the bowels of my mind.

Wait, bowels if my mind? Eww.

I digress. It’s November, and that means it’s NaNoWriMo, or National Novel Writing Month. The idea is to write a 50,000 word novel between November 1st and November 30th. That’s only 1,667 word per day, on average. Certainly doable, right?

My genre would be suspense, mystery. Perhaps a riveting whodunnit with an iconic detective or private eye who solves the impossible murder mystery. Yeah, that’s the ticket.

The problem I have, though, is that, while I can conjure up colorful characters and create great dialogue, I don’t know what to do with the players. I come up empty when it comes to important characteristic for a novel. Like plot, character arcs, conflicts.

I have an idea for this year’s NaNoWriMo effort, but unless I come up with a plot outline for my story, I’m afraid I’ll once again run out of steam and end up with a cast of characters who are aimlessly waiting for something interesting to happen to them.

Oh well, as Scarlett O’Hara said, “Oh, I can’t think about this now! I’ll go crazy if I do! I’ll think about it tomorrow. But I must think about it. What is there to do? What is there that matters? NaNoWriMo. And I’ll think of some way to develop a plot. After all…tomorrow is another day!”

Wait, tomorrow is November 2nd. If I don’t think about it today, it will be too late!

Well, frankly NaNoWriMo, I don’t give a damn.

Written for today’s one-word prompt, “mystery.”