YOUR PART: Throw out words from the letter of the day and I'll pick some of them to include in the opening paragraphs of a short story.
WHY: I'm most inspired when there's a little challenge involved. Usually that means an opening line or a theme. This month: your words.
Each evening I'll post the beginnings of a short story using some of the suggested words, As to when I'll end those stories...well, that's what the rest of the year is for.
So join in the comments with G words. names, places, moods, genres, things, whatever you want to throw at me. My creative bucket awaits. If you're here later in the day and I've already posted the story start, feel free to leave words for the next day's letter.
Looking for more great blogs? Check out the massive A to Z blog challenge list.
It was generally accepted that gnomes didn't move. They didn't dance around the garden at night or prune the greenery. They didn't sniff the gardenias or plan out intricate plantings with complex geometry. But when the moon was just right, the clouds parted just so, and the pond still enough to reflect the soft glitter of the night, those exact things did happen.
And so it was on one perfect night that a young gnome saddled up a sleepy goose and galloped off to find the girl in the giant glorious garden he'd spotted from the tallest pear tree only ten minutes before. See, gnomes are a somewhat impulsive sort and this one may have given little thought to the fact that should the moon part from its just- rightness, and the clouds thicken, and the wind pick up to ripple the water, his evening plans might go sorely awry.