On Location: Writing Prompts

During the weekly Thursday evening writing hour from The Story Pod, I often get distracted from creative writing by chores, my Bookstagram or just chatting… The writing prompt event at SMAAK meant no excuses, no distractions! We rolled dice to determine the category, worked on a prompt for 15 minutes and these are what I came up with:

Your character flips a coin*

The coin got flipped… It landed on the ground with a clinking sound. “Heads,” said Ava expressionless. 
“I told you,” said Micah. They looked to the ground. 
“You know, you can still back out,” said Ava. 
“You back out,” said Micah defiantly. The ground was slowly starting to change colour. If only a coin had had three sides, this could have gone differently. Technically, of course, it has the edge. A coin rarely lands on its edge. So the odds weren’t very fair from the start. When they were little, Ava and Micah had one of those dice that had a weighted side. Whenever they played a boardgame, Ava would add the dice to the box and knew it would always perfectly land on six. Much to Micah’s dismay. Many times, the table almost got flipped over, as Ava ran out the room, screaming “Unfair! I’m going to get mom!”. For a moment, both Ava and Micah looked up, thinking they heard a car in the distance. Their eyes crossed for a brief moment. But no, the sound stopped and all they heard again was the wind in the leaves and Micah’s shallow breathing. Ava’s breathing, you could never hear. Just like you could never hear her walk the stairs. She would just suddenly stand behind you. Ava opened the trunk. If only it had been tails. It would have been more “fair”, which Micah was such a fan of, of things being fair, of having an even piece of pie, or to her, fair would even be having the bigger slice of cake… Well, it would have been more fair if it had been heads. Let Micah solve her own mess for a moment. After all, Micah had been the one driving. 
So, she opened the trunk. The sun was a bit high in the sky, beaming down, it wasn’t warm per se, but still some sweat broke out on Micah’s forehead. Ava took out the family heirloom, their father’s prized possession. Handed down by his dad and then maybe even his dad. How this old rusty thing would ever have been supposed to serve for their protection, was questionable. Even now, it didn’t really serve for protection, did it? Though Ava wouldn’t call it violence either. Though Ava rarely called things violence. Not when having her sister in a headlock. Not if Micah scratched back. Not if Becca did. Usually though, Becca wouldn’t be involved in headlocks or scratching. She would always run to their mom, and Micah and Ava would always get in trouble. Mostly Ava though. Yes, Ava usually had to fix things. Just like now. 
She stared at the ground. She knew the coin had been flipped and there was not much to be done now. Why they even had a coin was a mystery to her. What would they even have bought with this coin? This coin wasn’t worth much. Not even a hamburger on the way. Ava looked at the sport bags, the laundry basket and some bin bags in the trunk. There would be enough for two people, enough clothes, enough cans and tins. Micah would probably claim all the peaches in syrup. She had a sweet tooth like that. Not that it showed. Micah got their mom’s genes. Ava, however, was stuck with her dad’s genes. She looked to the ground again. She aimed. Yes, it would have been better if the coin had had three sides.

Character finding out parallel universes exist

Ezekiel scuffled passed the wooden bench and took his spot. After three hours, he would always get a bit stiff, even if he was still young. Next to him sat two other students, who undoubtedly would also start feeling their knees past, he would guess, the second hour. However, his patron had sent him here to advance the sciences, and to establish the estate in the future, so without being begrudgingly he came here. It was the eight week, and he had slowly gotten used to it. His morning walk past the bridge, with all the wooden carriages, stepping out of his way from the streams through the street. Towards the newly built university. And he couldn’t have asked for a better professor. Already, they had discussed the Earth’s position towards the sun. 
When everyone sat down, the big oaken door creaked. You would think that the door would have been hinged and oiled properly. Or so Ezekiel would have imagined. Though he did not come here to study doors. With everyone silent, the professor walked in. Today, he had a stern face. Ezekiel knew by now, a stern face would mean he would really have to use his upper chamber. He would probably have to lessen his headache tonight with an ale, perhaps Arthur next to him would join him.
The professor started with a loud cough. Indeed it was difficult lesson. At the end, his classmates exited the benches, then Arthur, and while Ezekiel was ready to scuffle out and happy to stretch his legs, the professor called in his voice, tired from all the orating, “Ezekiel, please wait.” Ezekiel startled, but stayed put. “Sit down again, please. I think I need you to sit down for this.” “Ezekiel struggled to not show a grimace on his face. His knees wouldn’t thank him, but of course, he sat down. “What did you think of today’s lesson?” the professor stated. 
“Well, if the Earth moves around the sun, then yes, it is logical that one could calculate it by the relative spins around it, and if the Earth spins on itself, then yes, it would make sense to rethink the calendar.” 
The professor nodded along. “And what do you make of if the Earth can move along the Sun, then so would do the other planets?” 
Ezekiel frowned. “Well, I suppose, if one would calculate the spin of the Earth around the Sun, then one could also calculate…” 
The professor interrupted him. “What about planets that do not turn around the Sun?”
Ezekiel startled. “Well, if the Sun is the center…” 
“What if there were more planets, and more, and more suns, with planets around them?” Ezekiel stood up, despite the well-established professor having told him to sit down. There was only one authority greater than the professor though, so he could not help but stand, and his stiff knees were not even contributing to it. Well, mostly not. 
“Sir, has the rector magnificus-“ 
The professor shaked his head. “No, we don’t need to involve the rector. Also not the cardinal.” Ezekiel almost got his supplies, but, a curiosity was alit within him. “If there are infinite planets, then that means there could be infinite combinations of suns and planets, of different people on them.” Ezekiel’s head started dizzying.

How would your character react to a book that ends on a cliffhanger? Write about that.

“GRAAAHHHHGRG!” screamed Bea. Her cat looked up at her in surprise, but, knowing the inactivity in this household, turned back to looking outside, keeping watch for any birds landing in the tree there. Bea had stood up while screaming it. The book lay sadly defeated, half open, in the corner. 
You could just make out some words: “The Lady has asked for…” and “the wax seal on the letter still unopened…”. Her grey knot tipped to the side with the exertion of it. It was only a day ago, she had started the first page. 
It was only two days ago, she was in the line at the supermarket, her basket filled with the usual suspects: English breakfast, oatmeal, carrots, cat food… The woman in front of her, back arched, was counting coins. Bored, Bea had looked at the bargain bin next to her. Usually, she didn’t fall victim to the shiny allures in there, she knew it was just an attempt to get people to spend more money. Get that impromptu chocolate. She had even seen the neighbour from further down the street, a man she knew had spiralled a while ago, but had cleaned up nicely, succumb thanks to one bottle of wine on sale. But a cover with a man and a woman, in front of a castle had caught her eye. She doesn’t know what came over her, but she picked it up. 
“NEXT!” yelled the cash register girl. A teen, chewing bubble gum. Why she was screaming, Bea didn’t know, she had two perfect ears, and she wasn’t that far. She was actually startled a bit, and grasped the book tighter. 
When she came home, unpacking the groceries, the oatmeal going in the oatmeal tin, she saw she had accidentally thrown the book with the pinkish cover on the till. She quickly went through the bags and looked up the receipt: The Purple Roses of Amsbury read it on the receipt. When she had finished unpacking, she sat down on the chair. She picked up the book, and thought to herself, well, I’ve bought it now, and opened the first page.
The doorbell had rung, her neighbour asking for some sugar, pestering her about all the gossip from the neighbourhood. So it was only yesterday, that she picked up the book again, feeding the cat, and had read. Had fallen asleep on the sofa, to wake up and read again. Until just now. So she walked to the Yellow Pages and looked up the B for Bookstore. She rang, but no one picked up. She rang the second one, and the line got disconnected. She rang the third number, and it said the number was out of use. Is no one wanting to sell books anymore, she thought to herself. Only the eight number, Books by Peterson’s, picked up. 
“Yes, hello?” a high voice picked up. No ‘‘Good afternoon, who am I speaking to?’’.
“Good afternoon, this is Mrs. […] speaking.” The line stayed silent. No “Yes, of course, how may I help you?”. She coughed. Still no reply. “Would you happen to have stock of The Purple Roses of Amsbury?” The girl on the line stayed silent. She started to repeat herself “Would you-“ 
The girl interrupted her. “Yes, I see here, we do have that!” 
“Well, would you have the second part to it?” she asked. It stayed silent again. “Well, would you-“ 
“Oh,”and Bea heard a giggle “I’m afraid we do not have it, as it has not been written yet.” Now she stayed silent herself. “Miss?” 
“Mrs.” she corrected her. And then she hung up.
She was now pacing up and down the room.

Write to your reader

Dear reader,
Last week we talked about “10 ways to tell your co-worker you aren’t interested in their cat pictures”. The week before Sarah wrote in about “how to fake being into badminton because you accidentally agreed with your date that it is fun”. This week might be a little bit different. The past ten years, I have written to you about how to hide your dress’ tag and to return it unscathed, how to pretend you are interested in that dog’s gender reveal (especially for the cat people out there). I kept giving advice, because sometimes some of you would write back what happened next. A longstanding letter exchange, thinking of serial dater Elizabeth, when we heard how it went with The Biker, The Musician, and finally The Museum Guard turned fiancée turned husband. Sometimes a question makes me look at my own choices. I will never find myself with something stuck between my teeth again with our “10 second Handmirror Trick”. I have you to thank for that all. Today, however, I am not replying to a question about “what shoes to wear with my graduating dress”. Today, I’m not advising on “what dog would fit better in my purse?”. Not even on “should we wear matching suits to the rehearsal dinner?”.
After ten years, I think I have to send a question in myself. I have to ask advice. Perhaps some of you, after those ten years, thinking of long-term writer Frank, and his journey with letting his wife and mother bond over a stamp collection, having seen many of the less rare stamps as well, inspiring my son’s own stamp collection. Yes, he has now collected the 1992 Christmas stamp from Belgium, thanks to “Freckled Friend”. Kisses back. No, today I write you all to write back in. Give me some of your advice. Give me some of your life experiences, unfiltered opinions, wise words. See, my editor would not let me skip answering one of your questions this week. However, it is hard to write and focus on one of your problems, when otherwise occupied. Yes, I have written before while picking up trash on community service. Yes, perhaps I should not have blocked that car, because someone had a bumper sticker with a question that I had to advise on. But, writing from prison… is difficult. So, my question is: what would you have done?

Also, sharing the writing prompts, without too much editing or spell-checking, motivates me, so thank you for being here!

*I forgot the actual prompt so I just summarized it like that!