I have found that when presented with a writing challenge it forces me to use different perspectives and to take a writers jump into unfamiliar territories. I usually write in the crime and thriller genres, but I enjoy exploring other genres for this challenge. So here goes…
Here’s the link for the Fourth Writers Platform Building Campaign where the five prompts are listed.
Second Campaigner Challenge Details:
Do one or more of the following:
- Write a pitch/logline for a book based on the prompts (less than 100 words) Done!
- Write a short story/flash fiction piece of less than 200 words based on the prompts Done!
- Write a poem with a twist using the prompts as inspiration (in less than 200 words)
- Write a story/poem in five sentences, each sentence based on one of the prompts
- Write a poem/flash fiction piece (in less than 200 words) about the water pear *without* using the words “pear”, “spoon”, or “droplet”. Done!
For added difficulty/challenge:
- Complete at least three of the above activities and tie them all together with a common theme (feel free to either state the theme in your post or leave us to guess what it might be) Done!
- Write in a genre that is not your own. Done!
- Ask Challenge entrants to critique your writing. After the Challenge closes, you may wish to re-post your revised piece(s), and I’ll include a Linky List at the bottom of this post for those wishing more feedback on their revisions (note: revised entries will not be judged, so please label clearly your original post and your revisions. Please do not offer critique unless someone asks for it, as per the usual blogging conventions. If you do ask for critique, make sure you ask for it clearly so people know you want it, and please be prepared to receive feedback that may not be 100% glowing. If you are a critiquer, please be tactful and courteous, and remember to provide positives as well as negatives.)
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1. Book Pitch:
Lost Souls of Time
by Jennifer Chase
Megan and Tim were childhood friends, each with a long, happy future ahead of them. One worldwide event changed everything they thought they knew about their own lives in a blink of an eye. A massive cosmic flare hit the earth leaving the two eight-year-olds to fend for themselves for years – alone. With each new time dimension shift, they scramble for safety as they continue to look for the single clue that would bring them back to the present time zone. Will they survive long enough to find the answers?
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2. Flash Fiction:
Lost Souls of Time
Nothing was ever the same from that ill-fated day after the worldwide cosmic flare hit the earth. We were only eight years old playing, romping, kicking our favorite ball when our lives suddenly somersaulted into the unknown realities of a time dimension tear in the universe.
Occasionally time stood still, while other days split into fragmented existences in our memories to replay the horror.
Some days we foraged for food and any lingering clue that would take us back.
The large pear-shaped water droplets that rained down from the sky for months at a time held an important clue. I caught one with a wooden spoon to study. There had to be an answer to stop the unstable time shifts.
As I leaned back against the rusted support girder and watched Tim nursing his wounded leg from the recent shift, I realized that each hiccup in our reality could kill us at any moment.
Thrown into a nearby pond as the bridge exploded, I managed to take cover and escape death once again. The bridge had been the one constant reality in all the disturbances, but now it was only rubble and left no clues.
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5.Water Pear Flash Fiction:
Each well-placed thump of the oblong bundles of downpour made a distinct ring in the imagination as they continued to hit the ground, trees, and a few remaining structures. The battering sound was hollow with a rhythmic beat of a band warming up. Under ordinary conditions, the sound would lull you to sleep or even make you slightly tap your toe to keep time.
There was much more to the curious orbs of precipitation; in fact, the entire fate of human survival depended upon it. Most stores and houses were long gone. It was difficult to find anything that would hold these curious water entities. A closer inspection was needed, more than necessary.
A wooden stick with a flat end buried under some heavy vegetation would do the trick. Holding the utensil steady, horizontal, as the blob of rain held its shape for a moment. It wavered on the stick, subtly changed colors with electric charges of green jetted out before it exploded and splashed to the ground.
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