Harold walked slowly around the corner and towards the parking lot. Just as he was about to unlock his car, he saw something flash out of the corner of his eye.
He turned, thinking he might see someone else on their way home from work. Instead, he saw the flash again. It was brighter this time. It was coming from a metal garbage can on the corner of the store. The light was flashing and reflecting off the interior of the can.
He paused and hesitated. It was late. He was tired. He just wanted to go home and curl up with a cup of tea and a good book to read.
Whatever it was flashed again.
He had to see what it was. Despite the warning that resounded in his head, (Curiosity killed the cat) he approached the trash bin with caution. What if it was a bomb? (Why would it be a bomb on a nearly empty street in the middle of the night?) Most likely, it was some phone or tablet that was on the fritz, and someone dropped it in the garbage can thinking it was broken.
Harold bent over the can just as the flash happened again. He shielded his eyes from the light. Now that he was standing directly over it, he knew it couldn’t be a phone or tablet. It was too bright. And the light wasn’t from something electronic. It looked more like a tiny sun. Harold tried to look but it was too intense.
Again, he ignored the voice in his head that was telling him to walk away, get in his car, and just drive home. (Call the cops if you must but leave this alone). He ignored the voice and reached in hoping that he wouldn’t accidentally stick his hand into anything disgusting.
With one hand over his eyes, he reached down until he felt something touch his fingertips. At first, he jerked back, thinking that whatever was in the garbage can was gross and meant to be there. When he didn’t detect any slime or sticky substance, he leaned forward again until his fingers touched something solid.
This time, he grabbed it. It was solid and felt cool to the touch like a rock that was always in the shade. He wrapped his hand around it and pulled it out. In his hand, it felt not much heavier than a book. He finally looked at the object. It wasn’t flashing anymore.
(That is not what I was expecting). It was an ordinary die. A twenty sided one, but still just a die. It wasn’t flashing. It was made from some sort of yellowish stone, maybe amber. It was larger than normal. Instead of being small, it was about the size of a baseball.
Harold guessed someone had dropped it accidentally when they were throwing something else away. (But then where did the flashing come from?) He turned it over in his hands, but there wasn’t anything remarkable about it. It was marked, but not with numbers. Instead of the numerals for one through twenty, each side had a symbol on it. He didn’t know what to make of them. He didn’t understand what each symbol meant, but he recognized a few of them. There was one that appeared to be a sun, and there was a rain cloud. He also saw one that could have been a symbol for fire. The others were apparently just random things.
As he rotated the die in his hand, he saw that the symbols weren’t perfectly carved. They appeared to be handmade. Harold couldn’t understand why someone would throw away something they had clearly spent so much time and energy making. He tucked the die in his pocket. He decided to keep it.
****
He didn’t think much of the die the next day as he spent his day off at home. In fact, he left it in his coat pocket. The day after, though, he put his coat on to go to work and reached into his pocket. The die was there, right where he’d left it. There was a moment where he thought about sitting it on the table in the foyer that usually had his mail and keys on it, but as he held the die in his hand and thought about leaving it, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
He put it back in his pocket and took it to work with him.
Harold worked in a used bookstore. It was owned by his grandfather and his father before him. It was called “Too Many Books.” His grandfather was found of telling anyone and everyone who would listen, “you can never have too many books.” It was a mantra that he’d instilled in his son and grandson.
His grandfather had inherited a tidy sum from his own father and had used that money to open the store. He’d never struggled, and when he passed, his own son took up the mantle of owning the store and gladly inherited the fortune. Harold’s father had two loves in his life: books and gambling. Unfortunately for Harold, he’d inherited the bookstore, but not the fortune.
Now, like many small mom and pop stores, he was struggling to make ends meet. He couldn’t compete with online shopping. He was afraid he wouldn’t be able to keep the store much longer.
He walked through the place, inhaling the scent of dust and old paper that permeated every inch of the building. He put on some coffee behind the counter and did his usual morning routine. He noted there were drops on the window as he pulled up the shades. (Great. Rain. That would mean less customers than usual).
He was going to sit behind the counter and sip his coffee, but he remembered the die. He retrieved it from his coat and put it on the counter where he could see it throughout the day.
He poured his coffee slowly and sat behind the counter waiting for something to do. The rain continued outside, and the wind picked up. The greyer the sky became, the less likely a customer was going to appear.
With nothing to do, Harold picked up the die and rolled it on the counter. The sun symbol landed up. (If only it was that easy).
As Harold picked his mug up again, the rain stopped. He looked towards the window and saw the clouds moving away and the sun peaking through.
Harold looked at the die. (Wouldn’t that be wonderful if it were that easy). He picked up the die again and turned it slowly in his hands trying to figure out what the other symbols were.
He sat it back down with the rain cloud up. He sat back and waited. The weather outside stayed the same. The rain didn’t return. As the clock got closer to ten, a few customers trickled in. He didn’t pick the die up again until after lunch.
He casually rolled it across the counter. It stopped. Harold peaked at the symbol unsure what it might mean. It was a group of wavy lines. They could be the wind or the ocean. It was hard to decide.
After lunch, a few more customers kept him busy. He was helping a customer find a book when someone tapped him on his arm.
“Hey,” a young guy with thick rimmed glasses said. “I think your pipes are leaking or something.” He was pointing towards the shelves at the back.
“What?” asked Harold. He poked his head around the shelves.
The young guy pointed again.
Harold saw it this time. There was water trickling down the wall at the back of the story right next to the door that led to the back room and storage area.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Harold. “Sorry, I need to see where that water is coming from.” The customer nodded her understanding.
****
Several hours later, and a very expensive bill later, the leak stopped, and the plumbers were drying up some of the water as best as they could.
They nodded as they walked past.
“Thanks,” said Harold. He went through his evening routine and locked up the store. He grabbed the die as he was leaving and without a second thought, he rolled it one more time on the counter.
The symbol that landed up this time two sets of triangles in a row. They could be a crude drawing of teeth or a zipper.
Harold shrugged and put the die back into his pocket. At his place, he drank a glass of whiskey instead of his normal cup of tea. As he sat there trying to get lost in a book, he thought he heard growling.
He checked all the doors and windows, but everything was locked tight. He went back to reading. Before long, he heard the same noise. It was definitely growling.
At that moment he thought about the die again. He also heard scratching on the front door.
If you’re a creative type like me, you probably have the same problem I do — you’re working on a project, and yet in the midst of it, you get a really great idea! You have to fight that new idea away so that you can focus on your task at hand.
So, what do you do with that new idea so that you can focus, AND so you can come back to the new brilliant idea later?
Like most of writing / creating, you have to find what works for you. For me, I keep an idea book. It’s nothing fancy or special. I use a notebook that I can take pages in and out of. Currently, I have a disc bound journal.
I put the idea at the top of the page, and the only other thing I write on that page is further development of that idea. Basically, each idea gets its own space to grow. Some ideas I’ve had in there for years, others are new. And sometimes when I least expect it, I think of something to further develop one of the ideas in my book. Then I write the new growth, but still remained focused on my current project.
Sometimes ideas are very vague, like concepts, and others are more concrete with details and an outline. I leave the ideas in the book until I finish my current task. For example, my last book, Mages of the Lake, started in my idea book. When I first came up with the idea, all I wrote in the book was, “a girl grows up in a magic society but doesn’t have magic of her own.” That was it, for almost two years. Then I started to think about it more and more. Sometimes I would have “aha” moments and add to the page. I try my best to let ideas grow in their own time. Some are fast growers, and some are very slow.
I even sometimes add quotes from other things I’ve read. Other writers are one of my biggest sources of inspiration. (I might be biased, but I think books and writers are kind of magic).
Whatever you’re working on right now, hope it’s going well.
The moon was sitting on the house across the street as Jade left her house for her night shift. You would think that after a year of working nights, she would be used to it, but you would be wrong. Being a creature of the night took a lot of adjustment.
She paused before getting into her car. She stared at the moon. It was bright and full.
Great, she thought. She’d forgotten that there was going to be a full moon. That meant her evening was going to be… let’s say not boring, but in all honesty, it was going to be utter and complete chaos.
She took a deep breath and drove to The Location with the music off. She enjoyed the silence while it lasted. She knew her night wasn’t going to be a quiet one.
At the checkpoint, the guard scanned her fingerprints and her eye. He nodded as she drove through. Jade tried to remember his name. He was a fairly recent hire. They were minimally staffed, but she couldn’t recall his name.
The Location had a decent amount of turnover for a secret facility. Too many of the staff got curious and ended up getting fired. A few left under more tragic circumstances and were medically discharged. During her year at The Location, only three of the employees had lost a limb. She was told that was a new record. Her management skills were applauded.
Unlike most of the staff at The Location, she wasn’t hired through normal channels. She had inherited the job from the previous manager of The Location. Make a note, if you ever inherit a mysterious job at an unnamed facility in the middle of nowhere that requires you to cut ties with your life, run! Don’t ask questions. Don’t be curious. Just run. And, run fast. Kind of like your life depends on it. Because it does.
The previous manager had been her Aunt Ruby. Jade’s mother had always assumed that Ruby was crazy. No one in the family had known what Ruby’s real job was. She’d always told everyone that she worked at a private zoo. That’s all she would ever say on the matter. If they asked her why she only worked nights, she would shrug and say it was required by her job. In hindsight, everyone should have asked more questions and pressed her harder. Maybe then, Jade wouldn’t be the current manager.
Jade took a deep cleansing breath as she stepped out into the clear night air. She, once again, looked up at the moon that for once wasn’t covered by clouds. That in and of itself was rare in the Pacific Northwest.
Inside, she went through more security checks before she got onto an elevator and descended several stories. It was all very reminiscent of the facility in those cheesy alien movies about a secret organization. Though The Location didn’t have a cute talking pug or cool sunglasses.
The Location had two things in spades: weirdness and space. So, so much space. The underground facility didn’t feel like it was underground once you were in it. It was several football stadium sized facilities connected by halls. There was even a large aquarium in it. And large wasn’t the right word for it. More like humongous. There was only one creature currently living in it. And during Jade’s one year tenure, she’d yet to see it through the glass. She only saw it constantly being tracked, like all the other creatures down here, on the monitors in the security office, which everyone referred to as the “hub.”
In fact, like every night, the hub was her first stop for the evening. Her office was adjacent to the hub so that she was easily reached during times of crisis. As she walked in, all was calm. Tony and Trevor were watching the monitors as usual, and Dr. Elise Slater was filling out a report of one kind or another in her office. Jade waved at her. The doc didn’t see her, and Jade didn’t want to break the weird spell of calm that seemed to be over everything. She retreated to her office and read a few memos that had posted during the day. There wasn’t anything that required her attention.
The next thing she did was open her email. The very first one she saw was from Director Menken. Jade hesitated before opening it. Since she’d started working at The Location, she’d never received an email from the director that didn’t contain bad news. It was always something that caused her more headaches than she wanted, which was none.
The email was about budget cuts. Of course it was. Jade should have known that the night was too calm. It was an ominous sign. And when you ran The Location, you had to pay attention to signs. There was no ignoring the full moon for Jade.
She kept reading.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she shouted at her office. She glanced up to see Tony and Trevor both look over their shoulders at her quickly before looking away again.
She must have shouted louder than she’d thought though because within moments, the doc appeared.
“Everything okay in here?” asked Elise.
Jade was standing behind her desk taking deep breaths and trying to calm down.
No one spoke or moved for several seconds while Jade tried to get to a reasonable state of mind.
Finally, she let out a deep breath and felt some of the anger leave. She didn’t want to spread that much negative energy around, so she forced herself to smile before finally responding to the doctor.
“No. Things are not alright. Have you seen the latest round of budget cuts?” she asked.
The doc shook her head. “Can’t say that I have. I usually ignore that stuff until you tell me it effects my job in some way.” As the doctor finished her statement, her face shifted. Her eyes went wide, and she paled slightly. “Does it effect the medical staff?”
Jade shook her head. “No, thank goodness. We are operating on minimal funds there already.” She pointed at the computer screen. “The latest cut effects security.”
“Well, that seems stupid,” replied Elise. She walked around the desk and looked at the screen Jade was still pointing at. She skimmed the email. When she found what had set Jade off, she said, “Oh. Wow. That is… how can they…I mean honestly…” She couldn’t finish a thought.
“Exactly. Half. They are cutting the security budget in half. For this place,” said Jade gesturing wildly at the facility around her. “What are we supposed to do when things go sideways?” What she didn’t say was that things were always going sideways at The Location. It wouldn’t be a normal day if something didn’t try to escape.
The Location had one resident who was a constant thorn in Jade’s side. He got out all the time. He was constantly being spotted, and he thought it was hilarious to make her life hell. You’ve probably heard of him. He goes by Bigfoot or Sasquatch. In fact, as Jade was getting upset in her office, he was plotting his next escape.
Jade was turning red in the face the longer she thought about it. They were already operating with minimal security staff. She didn’t even think it was possible to cut anyone or she would have to start taking on security shifts herself.
“This is just ridiculous.” Jade dropped into her office chair.
“What are you going to do?” asked Elise.
“I guess the same thing I always do,” Jade answered. “I’ll schedule a meeting with the Director and board. I’ll try to appeal to their sense of national security. They’ll ignore me, and then we’ll just open the gates and let everything go free.”
Elise swallowed audibly. “I think you need a drink. I’ll be right back.”
Jade could see her opening a desk drawer in her office. Jade should have said no. Drinking on the job was not a good idea. But how on Earth was she going to have less security at this facility? It was unthinkable. Everything housed in The Location was kept in for public safety. It was also safer for the creatures if they remained here too, but the powers that be didn’t think of the creatures are worth protecting. The government viewed the residents of The Location as dangerous unknowable beings that had to be kept away from humans.
As Jade sat there waiting for the doc to return, she contemplated letting one or two of the creatures go right in the neighborhood of Director Menken. She wondered how he might feel if they were literally in his backyard. Maybe then he wouldn’t be constantly cutting her budget and fluffing other departments.
A grinchy smile was spreading across Jade’s face as Elise came back into the room.
The doc slammed two glasses on the table and a bottle of whiskey.
“Whatever it is you’re thinking, I’m in,” she said filling both glasses to the top.
It’s that time of year again for me… Time to edit an entire novel. This is my least favorite part of the writing process. I do send my books to a professional editor too, but I spend a lot of time working through them first and then send them out. I would never ask someone to read the first or even the second draft of my novels.
So, because this is my least favorite part of the writing process, I’ve been procrastinating. I am going to get started soon! (That was me trying to convince myself!)
My editing process is something like this:
After the first draft is done, I put it aside for at least a month. (Sometimes longer).
Then I read through it again and make notes on big things. Sometimes I change the order of events or removed whole scenes, or sometimes I have to add something I thought I’d already included but didn’t. Anyway, the first read through looks for BIG areas to work on.
Then on the second read through, I go a lot slower. I take it one chapter at a time and deep edit. I work on the chapter, the paragraphs, and even the sentences. For this part of the editing process, I have a checklist. It took me a few novels to develop something that worked for me. I use it every time though and I add to it or change it as necessary. (Not every writing project is the same after all). This checklist takes me MONTHS to work through. And honestly, when I’m in deep editing mode, I only work on it for a couple of hours a day. Any more than that and my head feels like its going to explode.
After I’ve done my deep edit, I send it to my editor. She generally takes anywhere from a week to a month to get back to me. It depends on the length of the project and whatever else she’s doing. Once I have her feedback, I do another round of editing. Usually looking at any major issues she points out.
The last read through is the most important part for me. I print the book and read it out loud. The WHOLE THING! I generally read it out loud to no one (when my daughter was little, she set up some stuffed animals for me to read to). I read it a few chapters at a time to my empty living room. This is the final process for me.
All of these steps take most of the year. It’s a lot and it’s very slow going.
My advice for those about to tackle a novel length edit is to go slow. It helps. The faster you rush through it, the more mistakes that will be made.
Anyway, just me thinking about editing instead of actually doing it.
Did anyone else feel like January was three months long instead of one? Just me? Oh well, moving on to February.
Here is the short story prompt for the month:
Something believed to be myth is very real
Write the Story
Despite the cold weather and general dreariness of January, I managed to get a lot done. I read four books, which is not many by some standards, but considering what else I did, I’m counting it as a win.
I put together the first part of my 18000 piece puzzle. It took me so long! It was a lot tougher than I thought it would be.
The first part of my 18000 piece puzzle!
I put away all the Christmas decor! If you knew how much I have, you would realize this is a huge undertaking.
My husband and I removed some weird / unsightly cabinets in our master bathroom. It was a project we’ve been meaning to do for awhile.
And then of course, I worked on updating and maintaining my blog!
So far, this year is off to a great and somehow productive start!
Rebecca enjoyed her train ride home. She would sit quietly and listen to a book on tape while she worked on a needlework project or crochet. She let her mind wander and focused on counting her stitches. It was her daily meditation, and today of all days she needed it.
Work had been a nightmare. The company was downsizing once again, and as head of human resources, she had to sit in on all of the firings. She didn’t have to actually fire them, thank God, but she had to witness the shock on many of their faces followed by heart ache.
Firing someone was hard enough on a normal day, but it was only three weeks till Christmas. Rebecca had begged the bosses to consider waiting, but they claimed their orders came from the board. Twelve percent of the staff had to go, no waiting.
She let herself be lulled into a state of calm by the gentle rocking of the train and the soothing voice of the story spilling through her earbuds. She glanced up occasionally to watch the scenery flying by the window. The sky was a solid shade of grey that made her pull her coat a little more tightly around her shoulders. It was a sky that foretold the inches of snow that would fall later that night.
She kept making loops with her crochet hook and ignored the sky. She tried to convince herself that snow this time of year was pleasant and that it would make everything look more “Christmasy.”
She didn’t notice when someone sat down across from her. The person didn’t speak for several minutes but just watched Rebecca crochet. The observer also felt the rhythm of the train and the relaxing toxicity of the task of crocheting.
“Would you like a cookie?” the newcomer asked.
Rebecca looked up to see a woman sitting across from her and leaning forward with a tin of cookies in her hand. Rebecca hadn’t heard what the woman said but she gathered from the expression on the woman’s face and the cookies being pushed towards her that she’d missed something.
“I’m sorry,” said Rebecca. She reached up and removed an earbud. “Did you say something?” she asked.
“I wondered if you wanted a cookie?” the woman asked.
“No thank you.” Rebecca shook her head and was about to replace the earbud and return to her isolated state when the woman spoke again.
“I’m sorry, but would you mind talking with me for a few moments?” the woman asked. “I can see you are in your own world, but I’ve had a terrible day and need someone to talk to, even if only for a few moments.”
Rebecca sighed as she removed her other earbud. She wanted to say no, but instead, she understood. She wished she didn’t feel sympathy sometimes. Her mother had always told her that when someone reaches out, don’t let their hand go until you’re sure they’re okay.
“I get it,” said Rebecca. “I’ve had quite a day myself.” She smiled a weak smile that was meant to convey comfort, but the emotion didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“I’ve had the worst day of my life today, and if I don’t tell someone about it, I think I might explode.” The woman replaced the cookie tin in her tote and settled bag. She rested her hands on her lap and leaned bag letting out a deep sigh as she did. “I don’t even want to say it out loud because it sounds so strange.”
Rebecca watched as the woman closed her eyes and sighed again. She looked like she was trying to gather strength. Rebecca instantly felt shame for dwelling on her own day. Afterall, she wasn’t the one who’d been fired. She should feel bad for them, not herself.
“I should probably start by introducing myself,” said the woman. Her mouth was flat, and her face showed little emotion. “My name is Tonya. And like I said, today has been the worst day of my life.” She sighed.
Rebecca didn’t know what to say yet, so she waited to let Tonya gather her thoughts.
An awkward amount of silence passed, and Tonya finally reopened her eyes.
“Sorry about that. I just can’t believe it’s all happened in the last twenty-four hours.” She repositioned herself and sat up a little straighter. “Let me start at the beginning, which is actually yesterday afternoon.”
Rebecca nodded her encouragement.
Tonya dropped her shoulders dramatically. “Around three yesterday, I got a call from the Coston funeral home that my mother’s ashes were ready to be picked up, so I made an appointment to go and get her first thing today.”
Rebecca wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but anything that involved a death of a family member was bound to be tragic, especially at this time of year. She couldn’t imagine losing her own mother just before the holidays.
“Going to get the ashes wasn’t what made this day so awful though. You would think that it would be, but it’s only the beginning of things going wrong for me today.” She shook her head. “Okay, so I fully intended to go to the funeral home first thing in the morning, but instead, I had to call and reschedule as soon as they opened. Instead of going to the funeral home, I had to take my cat to the vet to be cremated.”
Rebecca’s brow furrowed.
“I know, you’re probably thinking how did that happen? Well, I don’t know. Sometime over the night, my cat passed away. It was very unexpected. She was only eight. I went into the kitchen to feed her, and she was stiff as a board on the rug. So, that’s how the day started.” She paused and shook her head again. “So, I called my vet as soon as they opened. Loaded Tilly in a box and took her to get cremated. I called the funeral home to drop by after my appointment. And this is when things started to get especially bad.”
Rebecca couldn’t imagine what would be worse than finding a pet dead unexpectedly like that, but she didn’t dare interrupt.
“When I called the funeral home, they said that I’d already picked up the ashes that morning. I explained to them that was not possible because I’d been elsewhere. I also pointed out that I would have remembered picking up my mother’s ashes. It wasn’t something you really forgot only an hour later. The woman on the phone talked to me like I was confused. I asked to speak to someone else. She put the funeral director on the phone. I went through the whole thing again. He told me the exact same thing that the other woman had and added that grief did strange things to people.” At this point, she stopped, and a deep scowl settled onto her face. “I would have remembered. I’m not that old or forgetful.”
Rebecca studied the woman then. She was older, maybe in her late fifties if Rebecca had to guess. She had grey-brown hair pulled back in a bun. She was wearing a floral dress with a hunter green cardigan over it and an unzipped burgundy coat. Her clothes were clean and crisp. Everything was coordinated, even her tote. She looked sharp for a woman her age. Rebecca had to admit that at first glance, Tonya didn’t appear to be a woman who was forgetful or confused.
“So, I went to the funeral home rather than argue over the phone. I got there, and can you believe, the receptionist said I’d already been in to pick up the ashes according to the computer. I asked her if she’d been working all morning. She said she had. I asked her if she’d seen me that morning. She shook her head. I then pulled out my driver’s license to prove I was who I claimed to be. Then, you’re not going to believe what she said to me.” Tonya stopped and made eye contact with Rebecca to confirm that she was listening to this next part.
Rebecca raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt.
Once Tonya was sure Rebecca was still listening, she continued. “She said, ‘Oh no, not again.’” Tonya threw her hands up. “Can you imagine someone saying that when you’re at a funeral home?”
Rebecca shook her head no.
“Me either. Apparently, they’ve had a series of people coming and claiming ashes under false pretenses. I asked if they made it a habit of signing out the ashes without checking ids. The reception said they were supposed to check them, but she could tell when people were ‘really’ grieving. So, she didn’t make it a point to hassle them about their ids.” When she said the word really, she made air quotes.
Rebecca shook her head side to side again.
“Believe it or not, she couldn’t understand why I was so upset. She made the observation that they were ‘only ashes,’ and that my mother was not coming back. At that point, I asked to speak to the director.”
I hope everyone’s new year is off to a great start! Mine has been uneventful so far, and honestly, that’s a great start to the year. This time of year always feels like a time for things to settle in slowly and nothing exciting to happen. (Someone should tell the weather that! We’ve had some crazy cold days here in Kansas City!)
This is also the time of year where I make the list of things I hope to accomplish. I don’t usually create resolutions, but I do make a list of personal goals that I work towards a little bit at a time throughout the year.
Here is what I’m planning on so far for 2024:
Read 52 books
I’ve already started this one. I’m three books in so far. For the first half of the year, I’m reading books in ABC order. What I mean is I’m reading a book that starts with each letter of the alphabet.
Write 12 short stories
Edit and publish book number 5!
Participate and win NANOWRIMO
Finish my recipe cross stich pattern
Finish three different crochet projects
Put together the 18000 piece puzzle
I’ve already started this one too. The puzzle is split into four sections, and I’m working on part one and making good progress.
Get Zadie and Jon through part two of our DND campaign
Most of my goals have to do with reading, writing, and personal projects, and I add to this list throughout the year. I hope whatever you’re working on or towards, you accomplish your goals too!
golden sparkling 2024 new year eve lettering background design vector
Happy new year!!! I’m super excited to be starting my new writing goals for the year. If you’ve been following me, then you know that every year I write twelve short stories (one a month). Some years I’ve tried to connect the stories, and others are more random.
So, here’s this year’s short story challenge:
Write a short story every month based on the prompt.
Write at least 1500 words per story.
Lastly, share the story here!
I’m ready to get started! The first short story of the month prompt is:
“Conversation on a Train”
Write the Story
This year I’m using more simplified prompts to help me expand my stories a bit. The prompts I’ve used in the past have had more details and have always felt like starting points for me. I’m hoping to use these more open-ended prompts to see what I can come up with from very few details.
Anyway, whatever projects you’re currently working on, I hope they’re going well.
Still Working on My Novel 