The Prompt
This one is just for fun. Write a story of exactly nineteen paragraphs. Sounds like too many? Not to worry; the first and third paragraphs will each be used four times, so you really only have to write thirteen paragraphs.
We’re taking a very strict poetic form – the villanelle – and turning it into a storytelling playground. Here are the rules:
Paragraph 1: anything you want.
Paragraph 2: anything you want.
Paragraph 3: anything you want, but similar to Paragraph 1 in some way. Maybe they share a character, a setting, an object, or a tone of voice.
Paragraph 4: same rule as Paragraph 3.
Paragraph 5: anything you want, but similar to Paragraph 2 in some way.
Paragraph 6: copy Paragraph 1, but change it in a specific manner, such as presenting the action from a different point of view. Each sentence in Paragraph 6 must match a sentence in Paragraph 1.
Paragraph 7: anything you want, but similar to Paragraph 1.
Paragraph 8: anything you want, but similar to Paragraph 2.
Paragraph 9: copy Paragraph 3.
Paragraph 10: anything you want, but similar to Paragraph 1.
Paragraph 11: anything you want, but similar to Paragraph 2.
Paragraph 12: copy Paragraph 1.
Paragraph 13: anything you want, but similar to Paragraph 1.
Paragraph 14: anything you want, but similar to Paragraph 2.
Paragraph 15: copy Paragraph 3.
Paragraph 16: anything you want, but similar to Paragraph 1.
Paragraph 17: anything you want, but similar to Paragraph 2.
Paragraph 18: copy Paragraph 1.
Paragraph 19: copy Paragraph 3.
Some suggestions:
- Keep the paragraphs short. If you wind up liking the story, you can always expand them later.
- Limit the number of characters to two or three.
Example:
When Kathy walked into the workroom, Ted looked up from the copy machine and glared.
“Well! Look what the cat dragged in!”
The workroom was empty except for the two of them. The copier hummed softly. There was a faint smell of Sharpie in the air.
Kathy resented Ted’s presence in the workroom. There was a copier at his end of the floor; why wasn’t he using that?
“Yeah, well guess who’s going to be dog meat,” she rejoined.
When Kathy had walked into the workroom, Ted, knowing how she reacted to him, gave her his best glare.
From the moment they first met, Kathy had interpreted Ted’s fear of her as disdain. She still did. She put a possessive hand on the copy machine. “Have you got much more? I have a ton of stuff to get out.”
The two of them were like cats and dogs, or maybe worse.
Ted wished someone would join them in the otherwise empty workroom. The copier kept chugging its way through his job. He saw he had marked his white shirt cuff with Sharpie.
Kathy, too, wished someone would join them in the workroom, someone with authority, someone who could send Ted back to his end of the floor.
But no one came, so they just kept hissing and growling at each other.
Kathy had been in a good mood (she told herself) when she walked into the workroom, until that doofus Ted had given her the evil eye.
Ted, on the other hand, before Kathy walked into the workroom, had been glad to finally find a working copy machine, and hated her for interrupting.
“Bitch,” he muttered under his breath.
The workroom was empty except for the two of them. The copier was still doing its thing. Maybe he would write all over her face with a Sharpie.
“What did you say?” Kathy demanded. She returned Ted’s glare with interest. “Just what the hell did you say?”
“I said you’re a damn cat!”
As Kathy stalked out of the workroom, Ted’s glare followed her.
The workroom was left empty when Ted strode out. The copier hummed softly. There was a faint smell of Sharpie in the air.
Walter Lawn
Walter Lawn writes poetry and short fiction. His work has been published at The Bangalore Review, On the Run Press, Heartwood Literary Magazine, Every Day Fiction, and Lily Poetry Review. Walter is a disaster recovery planner, and lives outside of Philadelphia.
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