Thursday, April 16, 2015

A to Z: Beginnings N

Thank you to everyone who has stopped by to leave words for me so far this month. I've had a great time trying to work as many of them in as possible.

My short story, The Spell, was been published on Saturday Night Reader last week. This is free to read so I hope you stop by and enjoy this fun little tale.

THEME: Short Stories - at least the beginnings thereof.
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 N 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.

~*~

The nightingales sang, drowning out the lecture on nicotiana plants Sheri had been half-heartedly listening to on her laptop. The professor reminded her of a classic ne'er-do-well from the B-movies her boyfriend liked to watch on the weekends when they had time to spend lounging around together. The pencil thin moustache, heavy dark brows, and slicked back hair made her laugh the more she stared at him, completely disregarding what little knowledge he was attempting to impart. His suit was so tight, it was amazing he could lift his arms in the wide gestures he so enjoyed, without splitting the back seam. Maybe he had and that's why he stood so stiff. She laughed out loud, startling her roommate, Nancy.

"Damn, Sheri, you made me drop the newt." She scrambled after the tiny creature. "I have to finish this potion by tonight."

"Sorry, I'll help you find it." But she was much more interested in watching the backside of the nubile young woman as she crawled around searching through the scattered laundry on the floor.

Nancy sat up and glared at her. "Aren't you going to help?"

"Yes, sorry. I was trying to look from here." Her words came out all slow and tangled, like she'd had a dose of Novocain.

2 comments:

  1. Hi Jean - congratulations on Saturday Night Reader being published ...

    Night, nocturnal, nightingales, nocturnes, newt, nicotiana plants ...

    Cheers Hilary

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  2. You must be having lots of fun with these stories!

    Novocaine, nubile, ne'er-do-well.

    ReplyDelete