Okay this is the 100th post and I am giving away a signed copy of the book I selected stories for and edited Voices of Angels and a free critique of a 1000-1500 word short story!
So this what what you need to do… write the opening of a story or novel in exactly 100 words (this has to be unpublished!) Be as creative as you want and I’ll choose my favourite! The key is to HOOK me in that 100 words. And please share the link to my Blog and see if we can get more followers in the process 🙂
I’ll choose a winner on Friday afternoon, the one I really want to read more of (even if there isn’t more)- so get writing it now!
Deadline Friday midday GMT (London UK time.)
Thanks all- send your answers in the comments section so you’re gonna see what everyone else has done – who will be brave and go first I wonder?
This is a bit of fun – so please have a go!!!
AND PLEASE SHARE FAR AND WIDE… I need at least 6 entries before I’ll giveaway the book and the critique- hopefully we’ll get a lot more. Show me how creative you all are!!!
I’m waiting…
Writerly Debz 
Who will get the ball rolling?
I’ll give it a go – here’s my 100 words:
When the honey tinged sky began to darken, Fiona checked outside. There were the headstones standing in a queue, the path melding into the shadows and a curious outline obscuring the way. Squinting, Fiona noticed the curve, the blurred edges, almost like a furry creature lurking in the depths, too large for a cat, too rounded for a dog.
‘Liz, I think there’s something outside. ’
‘What is it?’ Liz hurried over.
‘By the tree.’ Fiona pointed as if she was directing traffic. ‘I’ve heard about these big cat sightings in Dorset. D’you think it could be one of them?’
Left, right, jump. Jump, forward, duck. Armour, armour, got to find the armour where is it, dodge those stray bullets, shoot back, they call it suppressing fire, under the gate, through the corridor, into the arena, sniper rifle on the ledge above, up the stairs, around the corner, double-jump, grab the rifle…
Too slow.
“Too slow, mate.”
A single sniper shot rang out over the sound of the nearby waterfall. My vision turned red. The gloating face of a burly, bearded space marine was the last thing I saw before I tumbled to the ground below.
“Game over.”
Exactly 100 words – this is the opening to “Playing Games” (provisional title) for the short story I mentioned at Monday’s Cellar session. Hope you enjoy it at least!
Me of course!
STEPS TO EDEN
There was a place that did not exist in time. A place which had no roads either entering or exiting it. It hung in space, defying all human law. It was free of anger, worry and frustration. A place full of love, inspiration and courage.
Steps to this Eden had been constructed, but for both mortals and the demi-Gods, they were invisible and treacherous. And yet it was a place everyone in the terrestrial world would want to visit or live, but no one could reach it.
Only the chosen few.
This a story about one of them.
Thanks all, great stuff… this is fun!
This one was written by Rhainnon Griffiths. 11yrs old and without a Blog account! Hope okay to post for her. At present she is doing very important thing at school……
Freedom Light
I watched the sun rise over the clouds; the ground light up, grass become alive. The flowers grew and talked, the sun was free from night. Most days like this make me calmer but not today; this is when my life turns from good to evil.
I can’t stay here long or the daydreams will get to me; you see when I was younger, I had an over creative mind and my mum would say this was a gift. I believed her then but not now. It’s a curse that haunts me day and night.
Love them all, but the one by Rhainnon Griffiths…11 years old?! Definitely one to watch.
Yes I agree. Isn’t this fun!
Lisa heard voices above her and looked up.
“Give me the ball! Dad said I could carry the ball!”
Two children, a girl and a boy, ran down the concrete steps. As she watched, they landed on the damp yellow sand, which clung to their bare feet like rough, grainy socks. Dropping the football, the boy kicked hard, and shouting, they raced off – their bright crimson coats glowing against the black rocks.
Lisa pictured her own daughter with them, imagining her dancing on the sand as she did in Lisa’s dreams, always smiling, always perfect, always two years old.
OK. I spelt my own daughter’s name incorrectly. Whoops. That would be Rhiannon! She’ll be very cross when she returns from doing the very important things at school!
No worries! Great that she had a go, did you see Bill’s comment!
Yes. She’ll be delighted! She really did write it herself. She’s reading loads at the moment. My mum and dad, her grandparents’, were astounded when she showed it to them. A bit of a giggle going on in my family now, who’ll get their novel published first?! Anyway, just being on your Blog will delight her. I posted it after she went off to school, after of course, consulting her! BTW she’s been picked for some sort of national ‘reading team’ to read about-to-be-published novels for teens. I like to think I’ve had some influence…!
(Just to mention Word counts ( – ) as a word, so this is what I entered it as, assuming you’ll be doing word counts on Word! Hope this is OK as I wasn’t sure.)
Yes that’s fine – no problem, I won’t be too pedantic about that. Thanks for your entry! This is fun. Debz 🙂
Keep em’ coming in – this is great stuff!
Hi, Here’s my entry.
We’re bombing down the motorway, it’s the African reunion. Dad worked in a gold mine, a year ago. We’ve been invited to a party – Mr and Mrs Williams. He was my headmaster, she, the English teacher. Lovely people, thing is, I don’t like crowds. I’m clutching my Enid Blyton book of Fairies. If it all gets too overwhelming, I’ll be dipping into that. What a performance; Mom spends so much time doing her bee hive hair do, Dad’s piping the horn in the driveway. I wait, he won’t be so mad if I walk with her to the car.
Two inches of twenty year old scotch in a chipped glass. A twelve dollar cigar brought to life with a disposable plastic lighter. Aderesto “The Acrobat” Vincelli’s big leather chair groaned as he leaned back. He squinted through the first clouds of gray-blue smoke at the woman in front of him. Unlike so many who had been on that hard wooden stool, she wasn’t hiding utter terror with a pretense of calm. Her hands, her eyes, her neck: these told the Acrobat that she wasn’t pretending. She truly wasn’t scared, not of him nor of Benny’s 9mm.
I looked around the hotel room in a panic, not sure what to do, the suitcase lay open on the bed. It was too much; she’d gone too far this time.
Laughter drifted up from the cafe outside and I quickly crossed the room to pull the window shut. I needed silence, a moment to think. What was she thinking? Why skulls? My hand trembled as I yanked the curtains closed. Darkness offered a brief respite and for a moment I sat on the edge of the bed. I didn’t have much time. She’d soon tire of waiting in the lobby.
Opening from my short story, ‘Bone House’.
(What a fun comp!)
It is fun. They’re all good but must say, ‘two inches of 20yr old scotch in a chipped glass,’ is doing it for me!
Well done Tony! You are the winner. I will email you but also read the latest post for a critique on all 8 entries…
Thanks, Debz! And thank you, too, Julie-Ann – I’m glad you liked it!
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