This week marks the 98th anniversary of the birth of blues great Muddy Waters.
This week write a story on the theme of one of his greatest hits:
- You should use the theme “I’m Ready” in your story (however tenuous the connection).
- You must write the story in one 24 hr period – the faster the better.
- Post the story in the comments — if you’re brave enough.
- Find something nice to say about someone else’s story and leave a comment. Everybody needs a little support!
Share this challenge on Twitter or Facebook
Some tweets/updates you might use:
I’m ready! Are you ready/ https://storyaday.org/wow-ready #WriteOnWed #storyaday
Got the blues? #WriteOnWed #storyaday https://storyaday.org/wow-ready
This week’s #WriteOnWed short story prompt is up: “I’m Ready” https://storyaday.org/wow-ready #storyaday
Come and write with us: https://storyaday.org/wow-ready #WriteOnWed #storyaday
See my story – and write your own: https://storyaday.org/wow-ready #WriteOnWed #storyaday
If you would like to be the Guest Prompter, click here.
With thanks to my friends at Creative Copy Challenge for inspiration and support. Go to Creative Copy Challenge every day for a new writing prompt and supportive community of writers.
5 thoughts on “[Write On Wednesday] I’m Ready!”
I think something may still be wrong. I find my own postings but none from anyone else. I did log in and still am not in the right place.
I’m still being directed to the general list of prompts. I can’t seem to get back to our group posts. Help! If I can’t get my computer to get me back to our group, how will I do the Story a Day? BTW I am basically trying to learn to write children’s stories. Maybe this is not the place for me, anyway? What do you think?
I am not sure at all that I am posting my work in the right place. I seem to get lost in the myriad of assignments that do not even apply to our group. Can you help, Julie?
Here is my copycat story. It is based on “The Cough” by Harry Humes, which tells of a coal miner who comes home carrying black lung disease, even though he refuses to recognize it. His story is 236 words.
My older daughter comes home late at night, singing some rock song. Red-eyed, stumbling, the odor of the weed surrounds her. “Sue, you have to stop this,” pleads her younger sister, “You’re losing your mind. You can’t remember or think any more. ”
“No, it’s what makes life worthwhile; the only thing,” she replies. She stumbles up to bed. The sour smell surrounds her like a cloud. “Friends” come to visit after school carrying with them the tools of the trade: Little pipes; incense. They wear shirts and slogans shouting the wonder of Weed. They pledge to do homework. But little gets done, as they giggle their way through their assignments. Over time, they become more ragged and unkempt; less alert; less interested in life.
Little sister withdraws to her room and buries herself in her studies. Always on time for school, she completes every assignment as though it would save her sister. She sighs. She cries. She hunches her shoulders at her sister’s friends.
Weed is like a hungry dragon. It demands fulfillment. It kills truth. It fades real life away. It puts its devotees in a cage of their own making. The world becomes smaller and smaller. Soon reality is only the next purchase; the next smoke. There is no easy way out. Ambition is lost. Indifference reigns supreme. Loved ones die a little as they watch.
I know this is sort of cheating, because it is so short, but it was the only response I could come up with.
YOU’RE READY; I’M NOT!
“I’m ready,” said Tom.
“You may be, but I’m not. You go ahead and go. I’ll come later (maybe).
“Wait a minute, Susan. You have to come, too.”
“I know, but you’re rushing me.”
“Rushing you! Good God, Susan, how long does it take you to get ready?”
“Oh, shut up, Tom. It’s probably the most important day of my life and all you can do is take pot shots at me.”
“OK. I’m sorry. Just let me know when you are ready. I’ll wait for you.”
Oh God. What am I going to do, Susan asked herself. I’m just not sure. Oh yes, I am. I’m just being stupid. What’s a love for? I want to go, but I don’t want to go. I’m ready, but I’m not ready. I just wish people would leave me alone…but I don’t really want to be alone. I just want to be respected for being who I am…if only I knew who that was. Oh well, it could be worse.
“OK, I’m ready,” said Susan.
“You look wonderful,” said Tom.
At last they arrived.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together ….”