[Writing Prompt] Let’s Get Started!

Welcome to StoryADay May 2013!!

Well done you, for deciding to take on this challenge. Check out the community and all the support you can find in there. But first, let’s get started!

The Prompt

Write A 100 Word Story (“Drabble”)

I’m starting the challenge with a Drabble because although a 100 word story will probably take longer than you expect, it’s still going to take a manageable amount of time.

Many people who sign up for StoryADay are looking for a creativity boost. Plunging into a 3,000 word story on the first day is a bit intimidating.

Tips

To make a drabble work,

  • Choose one or two characters
  • Take one single moment/action/choice and show us how it unfolds
  • Give us one or two vibrant details in as few words as possible
  • Show us (hint) how this moment/action/choice is more significant than the characters probably realize in the moment

63 thoughts on “[Writing Prompt] Let’s Get Started!”

  1. An interesting prompt to star the challenge off! 🙂

    I looove playing with extremely short fiction. I was a bit torn, however, as I really wanted to write something longer on the first day. In the end, I decided to write a longer piece this evening (past midnight, so it’s still officially May 1st) and then write a drabble in the morning. 🙂

    Can’t wait!

  2. Thank you for being kind to us, Julie. I’ve just finished (and ‘won’) Camp NaNoWriMo so the prospect of writing another 1,667 words wasn’t one I’d relish. I love 100 worders as I’ve been writing a short story a day, mostly flash fiction, for my blog’s 5pm Fiction slot since 1st June 2012 – the day after I finished SADM 2012! The 5pm Fiction slot is on hold while I do SADM 2013 so it’s an easy day for me. 🙂

  3. This is the perfect way for me to get back to writing fiction – something that has been neglected for months now. Drabbles are not easy but fun. They test your creativity skills even stinginess when it comes to words.

    1. Me too. I think it’s sufficiently challenging without being overwhelming, for when you’re jump-starting your writing.

      I love having to pare a story back to its essentials. Really interesting exercise.

  4. 1 May, Argenteuil sur Seine festival 2003.”

    Lonely, I went out with only my camera.

    French cancan music! Public around a stage under their umbrella.
    I approach: girls proudly dancing.
    The rain gets stronger, they do not stop.
    A woman lets me take a photo from under her umbrella.

    That girl lifting her leg proudly with rain on her shoulders, surrounded by audience under umbrellas: that photo still gives me courage.

  5. I did try to write a drabble but ended up going on a bit, so the result is over 300 words. But first story of the month is now finished!

  6. We’re pushing into night time hours over here (it’s nearly 10 p.m.) but I finished mine! 100 words is harder to stick to than I remembered though; I had about 130 my first try and then even after I’ve cut a lot out, I’ve ended up with 106. Well done to anyone who managed it (and everyone who finished, of course :D)!

    1. They are not that hard. Even my cats can write them. 😀

      SometimesI have to ponder a bit, and work at rewording and discarding, after I find myself over the limit, other times, like tonite, the story comes easy.

  7. Hi Julie, This was a bit of a challenge. I usually do longer fiction, but love a challenge.

    Deep Water

    Mornings were difficult. Her bones crackled when she pushed herself up and rotated her shoulders. The damp from the sea air made the stiffness in her joints worse, but she liked the solitude. She’d grown weary of pretense and prevarication.
    She bathed, running her hands over the pink lines of scar tissue that crossed her flesh. The explosion had been worse than she had planned, but the boat had to sink. They were in deep water, Richard and she, and it was her only chance to escape with the cash and the dingy.
    Nobody searched for dead women.

    Best Sarah

  8. I dunno — does this make a “drabble”? I feel like I missed the mark . . . maybe it’s masquerading as a “Story Spark” . . .

    Rainey tested the rock in his palm, eyes searching for a target. Rank bodies and angry voices pushed him forward in a surge of energy familiar to people who gathered together to share outrage and make demands – heard and then all too often ignored.

    “Rainey!” He barely heard her voice over the din, and looked down. A trembling girl, lanky braids framing her face, pressed close to him.

    “Why you here, Mandi?” His throat filled with bile, afraid for her in this crowd, roaring closer to violent action.

    “C’mon,” he swung his sister up in his arms, and started edging his way back out towards the relative calm a street away.

  9. The Morning Routine

    The sunlight is trying to break into my eyelids, threaten my safety – the incandescent rapist. I’m hiding under my blankets, my only source of protection.

    It’s time to go through the routine but I feel too heavy to move. He’s lying beside me, holding me. I feel his arms, also too heavy to lift. I sink into them.

    The routine keeps me sane. I can control my day if I control my morning routine. I can keep things the same.

    But everything has changed. The arms vanish. They were never there. He is gone; the routine won’t bring him back.

  10. Enduring Friends

    She held her book tightly. The corners were bent and the page edges grey. She snuggled her head on the back of her beanbag and as she read, the colors of the images from the words wrapped themselves around her, awakening her senses like the prickling sun.

    She could hear her family downstairs preparing for dinner. When would they understand that their world held none of this wonder? Each character was her companion. She felt their sadness and could hear their laughter. She grieved for them when she finished a story, and so, she reread the books, savoring each visit.

    1. Interesting take on why readers read.

      As a kid reading Hardy Boys & Nancy Drew and Alfred Hitchcock & the Three Investigators I used to wish I could meet the characters and hang out with them. ;-D

  11. Not sure I am good at Drabbling, but I have written two. This is the one I’m happiest with:

    He doesn’t stop. The first step is the hardest, but after that each follows naturally, putting distance behind him and the door. The weakness and the fear are left behind with his old life, and the cries of those with whom he shared it no longer have the power to move him.
    For the first time in years, Adrian is free. What he will do now, he doesn’t know, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that his old life, his old family, no longer have the power to hold him back. Behind him, the flames rise, consuming the house.

  12. Great beginning prompt, Julie. This month begins my adventure in laptop land – I love my desktop but I want to be more flexible in writing and work locations this summer so I’m venturing out – a scary prospect for this gal who’s comfortable with routine. The new machine is nothing too fancy, a Dell with lots of memory and that Windows 8 thing and Open Office and such. I’ve downloaded Scrivener here (it’s also on the desktop).
    I’ll check back later to share my results.

      1. did you mean that hand in the drain?
        I’ll never get that image out of my head, as long as i live!
        thanks. Nice to get feedback! I told all my friends to come check this out. i hope someone shows up, and even stays.
        thanks for doing this by the way. It’s a lot of work and I appreciate your energy.

  13. Found this sight today, which I believe is nothing less than kismet. Of course, I’m at work, but this is going to be a great month. I’m excited. Managed to push out an even 100 during lunch. Best of luck to everyone.

    Simon leveled his revolver at the clerk’s pasty forehead. Like a puppet with his strings cut, the man flopped down, out of sight behind the counter. He shuffled around, grunting, whimpering. Simon imagined him as a scared hog.
    Ka-chunk.
    Simon knew that sound. Pump action.
    The clerk emerged, resolved, silent, brown piggy eyes betraying none of the simpering shock from before.
    Two guns trained on each other above the glass cases of lotto scratch-offs and Snickers bars, neither faltered.
    The clerk’s gaze bored into Simon, “Forget this.”
    Simon considered the hungry bellies at home. “Can’t.”
    The revolver jumped and screamed.

    1. Oo, it was kismet. Clearly meant to be.

      Good story. I like the detail of the lotto scratch-offs and Snickers bars. Proves that even a short-short story can be vivid and spare some room for description.

    1. I’ve never written a drabble before, but it was easy with the hints. Very fun too. I feel like I’ve left so much out, it’s barely even flash fiction which I’m used to writing. Thanks for the prompt, Julie. Enjoyed it and was done before I knew it.

  14. MAY 1 Lemon Sunshine by Lisa Combs
    Rain fell in sheets. Lightening splintered the sky, thunder cracked and vibrated Midge’s teeth. She held MobyCat tighter than he cared for. Sensing her fear, he stayed. Storm drains flooded, water rushed up the driveway. The street became a lake. Midge carried MobyCat to the kitchen and made a cup of tea. She added lemon. The rain stopped, the clouds broke and the sun glistened through raindrops clinging to her windows. Her fear subsided and MobyCat leaped from her arms to curl on his pillow in the kitchen rocking chair.

  15. Hey there, hope I’m doing this right – can I leave my drabble here??? Also not a flash fiction type of person… but this was actually easier than I thought. Am a bit behind – working on Day 1 and Day 2 at the same time… but here goes…

    He heard a sound and scanned the woods. It was early evening and everything was drenched in shadow, moonlight filtering through the foliage insignificant as it wrestled with the darkness. But he had heard it.

    The feint rustle of leaves as someone… or something… brushed past them stealthily.

    Finally his keen eyes caught the movement of a shadow darker than that around it. He waited where he was crouched, knowing that it would reveal itself in its own time.

    Finally it materialised into a form he had not expected.

    It seemed Michael had spent ten years hunting his dead wife.

    1. Yes this is fine (although you don’t ever HAVE to post your stories online, it can be fun to get feedback). If you have a blog of your own and want to post longer stories there, you can leave a link to it on that day’s StoryADay blog entry.

      This is another story that ably demonstrates how much you can pack into a mere 100 words. Well done!

  16. First attempt. I can’t get down to 100 words! I’m stuck at 106. Perhaps this is an idea for a later prompt – take a story you wrote that went over, and get it down…?

    Lucy reapplied red lipstick with one hand, giggling as a fire-haired pixie of an artist worked the needle into her free forearm. “Psyched to finally get this covered, huh?!,” said Shawna excitedly, pressing on Lucy’s wide forearm, maneuvering the tattoo gun deftly around outlines she’d created. A huge smile appeared on the pinup girl’s face. She seemed immune to the needle’s stinging vibration, joyful relief lighting her up. “LOVE my job!” Shawna bubbled as ink flowed into Lucy, forever obscuring dark memories with mirth and luxurious color.

  17. A drabble!!! Awesome. Great way to start the creativity with a short but sweet challenge.Less words can sometimes be more difficult then when using a multitude of words. I had to be very picky with the words and not use as many descriptives as I usually do. Finished!

  18. My Drabble : the retired pilot… 100 words

    .
    My wings are clipped.
    I spent years flying through cotton wool clouds, but below, cotton wool fills with liquid, which escapes, in a slow dribble down my legs to form a puddle on the ground.
    Blue sky and bright sunlight bouncing off clouds, lifted me, but now mocks my decent to earth. No more pleasure from a smooth landing but a fear of death, the inevitable darkness that follows the descent into the earth.
    I thought, up there, I was so close to the Gods, when really down here I am closer to them than I have ever been.

Comments are closed.