The Writing Contest

So my friend Christine Bryant did this great thing for her birthday this year. She gave a challenge to write a story using 20 words and no longer than 1000 words. I was so excited to do this competition and she was going to give a gift in return, it was for 3 chapters to be edited for free by her. So cool! I got right on it.

It reminded me of high school when I would get my spelling words for english and would need to write sentences for them. I got creative and started to make short stories instead, because it was more fun and my teacher loved it.

WELL, I didn't win, you can see who did at http://www.christinebryant.blogspot.com/ but I sure had a great time writing mine and I wanted to share what I wrote with you.

So here are the 20 words I needed to use they were: pink fuzzy bath slippers, .22 rifle, glass horse, sleeping bag, a journal, white bean bag chair, a kitten (Sheba), a bouquet of flowers, a Barbie doll, Roller skates, a book (How to Draw Animals), a 10-speed bike (white), A stuffed alligator, A Donny Osmond poster (stop laughing), a lamp for my desk, flip flops, a jewelry box, a cedar chest, a heart locket, a used stereo (with record turn table)

See if you can find the words in the story:

The Visitor

Where did I leave my pink fuzzy bath slippers? I know they aren’t in the cedar chest. What did I do with them? Sheba better not of run off with them again. Ugh! When I see her little kitten face I’ll show her exactly what she can shred. I’ll trap her on my white bean bag chair and give her Jeffery’s stuffed alligator. She can go to town on that, tear it to pieces for all I care. Bond with it as much as she wants, just not my brand new slippers.

Dang, where are they? I really needed a new lamp for my desk. It’s ridiculous not being able to see anything. The lamp by my bed did nothing to light my room, only my Donny Osmond poster—don’t ask.

Ding.

I stomped down the stairs none too gracefully in my roller skates hoping not to fall on my butt. Where did those slippers go? I was going to kill myself getting to the front door in these. At least I had something to put on my feet. The floor was like ice and I had no clue when Jeffery, my bratty little brother, found the time to hide all of my shoes. He even took my flip flops and hid them who knows where. He better hope my .22 rifle wasn’t loaded when he got home from camp, the little twerp!

Ding.

“Chill out! Sheesh, I’m coming!” I shouted as the door bell rang for the bazillionth time. “Just give me a sec!”

Ding. Ding. Ding. Couldn’t whoever was at the door just let up on the bell for Pete’s sake? Crymanie. Don’t they realize how hard it is to get through a house in skates much less down the stairs?

Ripping the door open I was ready to give the ringer a piece of my mind.

What in the world?

Something cold, soft and sweet smelling, blinded me as it was shoved in my face. Losing my balance I fell backward, my arms flailed everywhere as my feet rolled out from underneath me. Grabbing at the air hoping to latch on to something, anything that would stop my fall; I felt something solid and held on. It was a large muscular arm. Unfortunately, that something attached to the huge muscular arm fell also, and with all the grace of a grizzly bear. It landed on top of me knocking the wind out of me. My rear took the brunt of the fall, and I lay on the floor regaining my bearings and my breath.

“I’m normally not this clumsy.” I said. “Sorry about that.”

Blushing, I looked up and saw . . . him. Oh no! I looked like a Barbie doll gone bad. Hair wild with bed head, no make-up and ratty flower jammies. My mouth gaped open in an unattractive O.

Dreamy blue eyes looked steadily at me, as a brilliant smile spread across Jeremy’s beautiful face. In spite of the fall he looked perfect, not a bit of his wavy dark hair out of place. He rolled off me and helped me sit up. Smoothing my blonde Barbie-ish hair, I tried like crazy to look better. It was useless. I was a mess.

“Hi, Green-eyes” he said using my nickname. “I . . . um, brought you these.” He held up what was left of a bouquet of flowers. Yellow Roses, how did he know those were my all-time, ultimate favorite flower? I never told him. No one knew.

“And these” he added giving me a velvet covered jewelry box and a beautiful leather-bound journal. His smile grew larger.

“Thanks” I said, taking the flowers breathing them in. “They’re my favorite.” I carefully placed them between the little glass horse and a book How to Draw Animals in front of Mom and Dad’s old used stereo. The one with the ancient record turn table.

“I know,” he said mysteriously.

I took the journal and the jewelry box from him, my eyes flew to his, puzzled. “What’s in the box?” I asked. Stealing a second, I glanced out the open door. Jeremy’s white 10 speed bike stood gleaming in the middle of the side walk. The same one he rode all over university campus last semester. It had a sleeping bag strapped to the back of it. No way! He couldn’t have.

“You rode all the way here? On that?”


“Ya,” he sheepishly grinned. “I did.”

“Don’t tell me you slept in that sleeping bag too.”

Jeremy’s smiled widened. “Ya, I did.”

Warmth flooded through me, as my heart beat wildly in my chest. He came to Denver? On a bike? From Utah?


“Open your present, Bonnie” he said softly. “I promise you are going to like it.”

I smiled as another wave of warmth flooded me.

I put my new journal next to the flowers on the table and looked up into his gorgeous baby blues. I slowly opened the jewelry box. My heart stopped beating then took wild flight again.

Was that really what I thought it was?

I lifted a beautiful heart locket from the box. It gleamed golden in the soft light of the moon.

“You’ve stolen my heart, Bonnie” he said drawing me close to him. He placed my hand on his chest. It beat as crazily as mine. “I want to give it to you to always watch over and protect.”

“Oh, Jeremy,” I said. “I love it.” Taking the necklace he reached around my neck to clasp it on.


He sunk to one knee before me, holding out another box. A black velvet one.

“Will you let me do the same with yours?” he asked opening the box. Inside was a large, brilliant, white-gold diamond ring. “Will you let me protect your heart for all of eternity?” He paused for just a second.

“Bonnie Marie Knight will you be my wife?” he asked with love shining in his eyes.

“Yes,” I whispered. “For all eternity.”


The End

I hope you had fun reading it, now how about writing your own story, just for the fun of it? I would love to see what you wrote if you choose to take up the challenge.

Thanks Christine for sparking my imagination and for all the fun I got from writing this story and once again Happy Birthday!

The challenge!

I have accepted an issued challenge. The challenge you ask? What could it possibly be? I have challenged myself to write at least an hour a day every day for the month of July on my book. Now this includes the days we go caving, my husband tells me I have enough battery power on my lap top to fulfill it, even at camp. It will be fun to see how that turns out.

So far after picking up the gauntlet, I have been able to swing it with full force everyday this month. I have even exceeded my expectations and been able to write more than anticipated. I love being able to let my creativity flow and being able to bring what I see and hear so vividly inside my head to flowing script on the page before me. And yes, I do hear voices talking to me in my head. Doesn't every body?

Extra time on the computer without kids demanding a turn is mine! YES! But admittedly, this extra time comes at a price. My husband is out of town this entire week as are my three boys. They are off exploring the wilds of the mountains in the guise of scout camp. Fantastic! you might say. Less interruptions, and you would be right but . . . I have a terrible time getting to sleep at night when my husband is gone, and so I have found my self up through the wee hours of the morning typing away, with a terrible case of insomnia. It happens every time he leaves town. So I make the best of it by letting my characters out to play, and letting those voices in my head take over . . . again, I am not completely crazy, its just that I see great scenes in full technicolor playing out in my head and I work to capture it with words.

Now for a warning . . .

Even though at the last and only writing conference I have been to so far, David Farland said that our creative minds wake up at 5 pm and stays up until really late at night, I am thinking that perhaps he didn't mean until 4 am . I found my self working on my book enjoying the silence of my three girls sleeping peacefully in their beds, except for when they shouted out in their sleep about someone doing whatever to you know who . Smiling to myself, I wondered why I felt so tired, to look down at the clock on the computer and see 4 am staring wickedly back at me. OH WOW! It was not really that late . . . er. . . I mean early was it? That is how the first night my husband was gone played out , but I have to admit, I was able to write creatively for most of the time my insomnia was in full force. Eventually (4 am) the word began to blur, and I was finally able to sleep.

I looked back the next day, worried about the blathering gibberish I might find to see that what I wrote was actually pretty good and even made sense, which was a shocker to me. I expected nonsensical words to appear in place of the wondrous prose of the night before. I was happy this was not the case. Actually I was ecstatic. However, I don't recommend doing this, at least not very often, because its not the day after that you feel like you were hit by a semi because of a lack of sleep, but the day after that.

But the writing challenge has helped me focus in and forced me to carve out time every day to write and move my story forward to completion instead of jumping around with portions, I am now focusing on start to finish, with some editing along the way. I love the challenge, I feel excited when I sit down and easily lose myself in the world of my creation. It has sparked new imagination, and a little thrill of anticipation each time I write.

So now I pass my gauntlet to you, will you pick it up and rise to the challenge as well? Will you choose to write everyday something that releases the creativity within you? Answer the call, don't be afraid, prepare your self for the journey, you may just find yourself entering into a wondrous new world.