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 I 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.
Ever wonder how many writers prefer third person past tense over all the other point of view options? Check out this week's Authors Answer.
He should have known better than to have slept with her. It was her fault really, all spread out in the skimpy lingerie on the satin sheets, sound asleep breathing softly, lips slightly parted. Had she been dressed in flannels, tucked under some beloved granny's quilt, hair in curlers and one of those hideous face masks on, he would have found her inedible, but no. She was asking for it.
She was lonely. He was just trying to help. The attraction was mutual, he was sure of it. She certainly hadn't complained at the time.
How was he supposed to know that her husband was a powerful priest who had been gone on a week-long retreat? He found out quick when her husband came home and learned what had been going on.
The next thing he knew, he was on an island in the middle of literally nowhere. Just black sand, icy air, and nothing but an inky nebulous haze surrounding the four paces of land he had to walk upon. They were going to pay, both of them. Just as soon as he figured out how to get out of here.