Just Some Results of Writing Prompts

Writer prompts can be fun. They can help give you inspiration to just get some words out on the page when you haven’t really been getting around to working on your writing for a while. Which, for a couple of weeks, has pretty much been me.

Last night I did manage to write out a page (and yes, that is an accomplishment) of a new book, even though I’m still committed to the untitled one I’ve been posting excerpts of on this blog.

The point is, today I’ll be giving you some examples of what happens when I personally indulge in doing a writer’s prompt. I have three examples. One ended up being sort of sad, the other I rambled a bit on, and one of them isn’t even finished. But everything’s about trial and error, isn’t it? And I was just sort of playing around with my words.

Here it (uh, they?) is (…are).

  1. (Yesterday’s Rain)

Rain slithered down her neck like a cold blooded snake. The drops of water fell everywhere; splashing on the bike handles. But she couldn’t loose her grip, she couldn’t loose control of her bicycle, or else she might go veering off onto the road.

Sam wasn’t in the mood to be run over by a car that day. She doubted she ever would be.

The unexpected shower Mother Nature had decided to spring on them all forced Sam to take a short cut she hadn’t dared go down for the past three months. The bike wheels pushed down into now softened dirt. The rain made the surrounding plants smell more fresh than usual.

Impulse had taken Sam to the short cut, and impulse led her to stop and get off her bike. She lifted her head to the stormy clouds and allowed a long suppressed sob to escape her throat.

She remembered going down this short cut with her older brother every day after school. He had always made her stop and look around at the rare spattering of plant life in the city.

“Appreciate it,” he would say with a teasing grin. “There aren’t enough flowers around here.”

Sam never knew exactly what he meant, however she regretted not listening to him about appreciating what she had. People tended to take things for granted.

“I don’t think Max wanted to be run over by a car, either,” she whispered.

The memories began to swirl more and more. She remembered every time she came down there with him, and every time they’d just chatted and laughed.

As the sun came through, Sam let out a smile.

(When I think rain, I think this kind of mood and this kind of story. I couldn’t control myself.)

2. (Green Eyes)

Eyes that green were definitely dangerous. I learned that lesson a long time ago.

Don’t get me wrong, I always found them unnerving. Framed by dark hair and a pale complexion, those eyes seemed to be able to gaze into your soul. Unfortunately, I was the only one who really noticed. Nobody else thought Ryker Smalls was out of the ordinary.

The school bell rang. With a deep sense of relief, I picked up my books and moved towards the door along with the rest of my classmates, but something caught my eye. Across the room, Ryker was still sitting in his seat, staring at the desk.

I looked around for the teacher, but she had apparently gone outside to talk with a colleague. I cleared my throat while simultaneously cursing myself for always cursing myself for always having to get in other people’s business, and addressed Smalls.

“Ryker? The bell rang. If you don’t go, you’ll be late for class.”

Those eyes snapped up and met mine, something flashing in their depths. “I’m aware. Leave, Abby.” I cursed myself a second time for not listening.

“Come on, Ryker.” I sighed. “What would you get out of staying here?”

(That’s a wonderful way to end. Cliffhanger! I don’t know exactly where I was going with this, but I had to stop working on it and do something else. Maybe I’ll finish it one day, maybe not.)

3. (A Lot of Strange Stuff)

How to Stop a Killer

Step 1: Don’t die. If you’re killed first, then you can’t exactly stop the killer. If I had just stood there staring blankly as the knife came closer and closer, I wouldn’t have done anything, and I wouldn’t be writing this list.

Do me a favour and at least try to follow that step alone, all right?

Step 2: Find a safe place. Somewhere to regroup (of course, if you still have anyone to regroup with). This, as well as Step 1, should be a given, so I’ll just move on. From personal experience, though, hiding places with a lock tend to help.

Step 3: Make a plan. This can vary from calling the police, which is probably recommended, to taking matters into your own hands. I’ll give you a hint: before I got my job, I didn’t really take that recommendation.

Step 4: Carry out that plan. Duh.

Step 5: Repeat of Step 1.

Ella looked down at the crumbling paper in her hands, then made a face at the man sitting across from her.

“That’s not very helpful,” she pointed out.

His only response was, “I thought it was pretty straightforward.”

Ella sighed and snatched the pen away from Alex’s hand, turned over the paper, and restarted the list.

How to Actually Stop a Killer

Step 1: Don’t die.

“Oh,” said Alex. “So when you do it it’s okay.”

Ella silenced him with a glare before continuing.

Step 2: Remain calm. Try taking deep breaths, and don’t panic so much that you make a rash decision.

Step 3: Remember to be silent, and not let the killer find you.

Step 4: Please call the police. That is the best course of action. It only makes things worse if civilians take matters into their own hands.

Step 5: Wait for help to arrive and stay safe.

“What do you think?” Ella asked proudly. Alex wrinkled his nose as if he smelt something rotten.

“That mine is better. Are you actually saying that we should tell people to remain still if there’s ever a killer on the loose?”

“It’s more logical than telling them to make up a foolhardy plan.”

“You know what?” Alex stood up. He shoved his hands in his pockets, and moved towards the door. “I’m done. You can do this yourself.”

“Alex, wait. This is serious. Crime rate is rising, and the boss trusted us to make this thing.”

“That was his first mistake,” Alex muttered under his breath before slumping back into his chair. “Fine. Here’s a compromise: people are to call the police first but are allowed to do anything they can to stop the killer if needed. Deal?”

Ella pursed her lips. Sometimes she felt that compromising with Alex was the worst idea on the planet. Worst idea in the universe, possibly. But she was exhausted and couldn’t’ argue with her co worker anymore. It made enough sense, she supposed.

Below Step 5, she wrote-

Exception: If situation is too dire, you are permitted to attempt to stop the killer yourself.

Ella clutched the piece of paper in her hand, moving to give in their list to the boss. “I hope you’re happy,” she called over her shoulder. Alex rolled his eyes, but couldn’t stop a grin from slipping out.

“Never better.”

(This is the one I felt I was rambling on, and I’m aware that it probably isn’t entirely realistic. I also have no idea how Alex would have gotten a job as a police. However, it was fun to write, and I enjoyed switching between the list and the story itself.)


As you can see, the three times I worked on something for a writer’s prompt none of them were perfected or edited. It was just to get me writing. It was just to give a little bit of inspiration