You're seven and it's early morning on Christmas. You run to the tree and--oh gosh, what's that? I dunno, WRITE ABOUT IT!
Write a rhyming poem that includes the following words: "muscle", "speaker", "tree", and "eye".
October means horror. Write some creepy stuff that makes my skin crawl!
A/N: Dear God, poems. Not to mention duality poems, which are extremely hard to make. I dunno, I wanted to take the challenge! Let me warn you, it ain't good. But you read it from top to bottom and it means one thing, then you read it bottom to top and it means another. Here we go!
You know the truth
My secrets stay with me
You know everything about me
I will tell you
You don’t know
That I feel this way
It’s the one thing you don’t know
How about a poem? Write a duality poem--a poem that has two meanings based on if you read it from top to bottom or bottom to top.
Crossover time! Choose your favorite characters from different books, shows, and/or movies and include them all in one story.
"Clouds" was the last word sent in by the awesome gal, Jane! I'm gonna throw in some new fancy words. Plus, I'm setting it in an alternate universe for this month's Are You a Writer? topic. I'm gonna do a new sorta format since you can't indent on Weebly other than pressing the space bar a few times, and just space between paragraphs. Not really sure how this is gonna end up. Either way, here's
Clouds by Jazelyn
Jacquelyn was irate whenever she thought about the dark cloud that was literally over her head at all times. It would seem plausible to be used to it after seventeen years of living, yet the shadow it left mentally incapacitated her. A little over half of the world's population was born with small, gray clouds over their heads. No one could agree on one theory as to why the unfathomable clouds existed, nor why only certain people had them, but people did postulate their ideas. The biggest rumor was that a person's cloud would dissipate once they met their soulmate. You couldn't see others' clouds, but many who had them would end up telling their family and friends anyway. Jacquelyn thought the squealing girls in gym class showed a great amount of folly.
She was keen on making it to class early today, attempting to maneuver around the crowds of people. She tried to squeeze by Mason on the staircase, one of the boys in her grade, but their shoulders inadvertently collided. Jacquelyn's belongings fell and slid down the stairs.
"Oops, sorry!" he called, continuing to walk up the stairs.
She shuffled her folders together and grunted, "Aren't you insolent. . ."
Mason rose an eyebrow at his friends before stepping down to help the girl. "Fine, I'll help," he regaled, bending down. "Only cuz' I'm a chivalrous man."
Jacquelyn rolled her eyes when a breeze moved a strand of her light blonde hair across her cheek. The shadow that was looming over her for years was gone. With a sharp intake of breath, she glanced at Mason. She barely knew him; they probably have only talked twice. He had a pale yet toned body and red curly hair that neared his shoulders. He couldn't be her soulmate, right? Their blue eyes met, hers squinted in confusion and his crinkled by a smile. He must not have a cloud, she thought.
He stood up. "Well, see you in science!" And with that, he left Jacquelyn crouching on the bottom of that staircase.
I'm killing another two birds with a stone. Might as well call me the pigeon assassin. Jane sent in the word "love". Hope gave the topic of "overcoming". I don't know what to title this story. The last part is from this. Let's do it!
A Story to Tell the Kids by Jazelyn
When Mom told me my father would go off to live in Sacramento, I didn't know what to think. I tried to pretend the fights muddled by thin walls would eventually boil over. Trust me, they did boil over. . . and they spilled out the pot of life in an uncontrollable mess that burned me when I tried to clean it all up. I hid all the bad thoughts in the back of my cluttered mind for weeks, until Dad packed up nearly half the things in the house and drove away.
Mom acted happier in a way, but I could tell she felt guilty for me. Everyday she picked up a cup of Golden Spoon frozen yogurt on her way home from work. Unfortunately, my taste buds eventually declined the healing nature of Cake Batter yogurt.
I avoided telling Mom how upset I was. This resulted in many summer nights staring at the ceiling and thinking about the future. Most of my worries were about family. Would Dad ever visit? Would I have to deal with any of Mom's boyfriends?
Then I started thinking about myself. Will I have to deal with this when I'm with someone? Will the person I love suddenly hate me and leave? Will I have a kid that'll have to go through all of this?
By the time school rolled around, I was knee-deep in snotty tissues and Taylor Swift songs. I wasn't looking forward to learning or meeting new people. I just remember trudging to the back of the classroom and having the boy to my right ask if I had a pencil sharpener.
I also remember that boy asking me for my hand in marriage years later.
Now I spend my nights in his arms, smiling to myself. It's amazing how I can look back and wonder why I was ever worried.
Jane (who is awesome) sent in three words, meaning I get to write something! YAYY! I'm also gonna kill two birds with one stone by giving my writing for July's writing topic: Write something set in another planet or universe.
But before I start typing away, I want to clarify something I didn't really explain. If you want a story based on a single word, then only send in one word. You can always send in more words later if you want more stories. You also have the option to send in a two to three worded phrase which I can also make into one story. Just btw, fyi.
Jane, since you are so awesomely awesome, you get three different short stories! The first word she sent in was "broken". This is inspired by a game I played on the iPad called The Silent Age. You should play it! Now here's
Broken by Jazelyn
Palmer exhaled as he slumped over his bed. For the whole day, people had been getting on his nerves and he was ready to collapse in his room.
"Dude!" his 10-year-old brother shrieked, barging in.
The teenager groaned. "What's wrong, Vinny?"
"This old guy passed out on the street and I tried to go get some help but he made me stay and he told me I had to go back in time to warn him about today!"
"You're not serious, are you?"
Vinny stepped closer and showed his brother the green device in his hand. "This should transport us to another time. Do you think it actually works?"
Palmer shook his head as he walked to his desk. "No, there's no way you're serious," he muttered to himself. He tried to ignore his brother's never-ending begging to help him, but eventually ran out of patience. He turned on his leather swivel chair. "That stupid toy won't work! See?"
After slamming his hand down on the small button, the room went completely black. "Where are we?" Vinny whispered. The two brothers walked out the darkened room into the halls of the house. Everything that sat in their home was now altered; it was all dusty and torn up. Stray boards of wood were scattered their carpeted floors There was also a gaping hole in the roof, making the sunshine pour in.
Palmer felt his stomach churning. Time travel? Impossible. Yet the pinches he constantly gave himself proved this couldn't be a dream. Vinny was wandering around this seemingly alternate universe when his gasp alarmed his brother. Now both boys had their eyes on the skeleton strewn across their ratty suede couch. The bones were horribly white. It had resemblance of the decorations their family would place in their yard every October. Yet this skeleton wore ripped fragments of Dad's favorite shirt.
Palmer ripped the button out of the shorter boy's hands and pressed it. "It's broken!" he cried.
Vinny grabbed the device back and scolded, "It's not broken. It runs on sunlight. Maybe it would have a chance to charge up if you stopped punching it." They stood in silence before the younger one started, "So, about that guy. . ."
"No, we are not gonna travel through space to search for this crazy old man. We need to find a way to fix this," Palmer gruffed. After glancing at his brother's pleading eyes, he crossed his arms and walked off. "Fine, let's go find him."
To probably not be continued. . .
Ooh, cliffhanger! Since it's on the downside that I'll continue this, you guys can imagine what happens next! I guess the idea of "broken" wasn't that incorporated into there, but hey, it's there nevertheless. Thanks for sending that in, Jane!
For the longest time, I've wanted to up my vocabulary. According to my friends and basically everyone I know, my vocabulary is already "upped". But that's really not true. Those people usually see school essays that I've typed. On a laptop. Where the thesaurus is a few clicks away. Meaning the probable scenario was this: I noticed I was using a really lackluster word a lot, so I searched it up on a thesaurus, found a synonym, and used that.
And that is not upping your vocabulary.
I want to learn something and remember it. I don't want to look at a word and think, "Oh, I should use that," then never use it! Thus, I have created a word document. A word document with WORDS. (Not too exciting, huh?) But this word document has words that not everyone uses, not because they aren't useful, but because few people are expected to learn them.
And using the words I've recorded so far, I shall write a small small small small story. So here is, uh. . .
Fancy Words by Jazelyn
"Guess what I have? Katie's diary!" I squealed into the phone.
"Katie's diary?" Carter cried. "You mean, Katie Lawson's diary? You seriously don't--"
"Oh, I do. Got it in the Lost and Found." I ran my fingers over the sparkly and sumptuous cover. "So, how about page 32?"
I could envision Carter rolling her eyes in the small moment of silence. "Are you insinuating that I corroborate this ominous activity? Could you for once tap into your prudence and examine the propriety of this situation?"
"I think you're addled. You must have forgotten how incontinent I am," I joked with a grin.
"Not the time to be facetious," she sighed.
I flipped to the first, ink-filled page. "Suit yourself. Go twiddle your thumbs while I engorge myself in these resplendent words!"
Most of the words were in the things the characters were saying. I can imagine a small toddler taking out a dictionary every few seconds!
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