Storytelling Discussion

[hueloovoo]

Yay! I was going for alien spirit thought feeling, and the play idea at beginning and end is good, but I really wanted to start with that plaintive line, "Where is my child?" I thought it set an uncertain tone that would add to the alien-ness.

[Artemisia]

It's an excellent little story, thank you

[Artemisia]

So...as I was thinking...I love working off of pictures for stories, and I'll get two up shortly, but here beith the next prompt:

[Azrael]

Gender-bent burlesque Hamlet?

[Artemisia]

Hey, if you want to write that scene- go for it.

[Retiarius]

My apologies for not keeping up on the writing prompts. I've been editing my first book, trying to get it ready for publishing as an e-book (particularly since I've installed a major upgrade of the e-book editing software I use on my newer Windows 7 machine instead of the old Windows XP machine I've been using). I still have to get the illustrations or at least the cover done for it and work on some sort of low-budget marketing plan more developed than the nebulous idea of running ads on some of the webcomics I think potential readers would follow. I've made a lot of progress on it; I've finished yet another complete readthrough, but I'm also reading it to a friend over Skype: it is reading it aloud to another person—not just to myself—where the glitches really jump off the pages. It forces me to read every word I actually wrote, not what I thought I wrote. Someone who will sit and listen to me read chapter after chapter is, for me, a writer's greatest treasure. It's the best way I know of catching errors no mere spellchecking program would ever find. Sometimes I wish I was reading it to someone who wasn't a friend, though—I feel that I'm not getting the type of criticism it actually needs. I think she genuinely likes it and just isn't saying it to be nice but I'm sure there is room for improvement. (There always is.)

I've even gotten work done on the second book, making more progress on it in the past week than I've made in almost a year.

Anyhow, I have an idea for combining the two of the last three prompts into a single one that I hope to post soon. In the writing group I'm in that meets on Mondays, I do that a lot because we draw two prompts from the bowl, and each of us can select which one he or she actually writes about, but I commonly combine both into a single one for the added challenge. Unfortunately nothing has come immediately to mind on the new one above, aside from the obvious Hamlet reference, which, I see, is already being done.

[mikbuster]

That sounds interesting.

I'm actually thinking of a couple of different things for it, but neither is fleshing itself out in my head yet.

[Azrael]

No worries, Retarius, go ahead with that if you like because a writer, I am not.

[Retiarius]

What sounds interesting?

[mikbuster]

I meant the books. It sounds fun

[Retiarius]

It's pretty good except when you get stuck on a bit of dialog for months at a time.

[Artemisia]

Retarius, it's alright

I've been doing my best, but things get to me easily, and this tends to be one of the things that is difficult for me to keep up with when I'm depressed. Still, thank you and I look forward to your stories. and I'm glad that your novel is coming along so well

[mikbuster]

There are several things I don't like about this story, one of which is that I had trouble moving it forward and still saying everything that needed to be said without getting to be grotesquely long for this purpose. Also, I wanted to try something different, and I don't really think I hit the mark I was going for. So, yeah, not much of a horror girl myself, but it was interesting.

“Mommy! Why is she dressed like that?”

“Well, Sarah, people all like to wear different clothes. Some like to dress a bit more … showy than others. And it’s not nice to shout about it where you might hurt their feelings, okay?”

“Sorry.” Sarah went back to eating her chicken nuggets. Still, Jeanette thought the torn striped stockings and very revealing dress were a bit much for such a public place. At least that was the only real embarrassing issue so far that day. Yes, there were messes, but with a little boy and a little girl, you kind of expect that.

“Okay, come on, hurry up. We need to get home so we can greet your father.” It was a lazy Saturday at the mall, and the family was just finishing up lunch. “And if you want refills, get them now and make sure the lid is on tight.”

It was a bright sunny day, and Jeanette couldn’t help but look back at her children, her angels. Little Sarah with her golden mane who, for some reason, decided to wear jeans under her pink dress. James with his chestnut hair covered with that blue baseball cap. He at least dressed sensibly. Another day with her babies safe in the back seat while she drove them all home.

While eating supper later that night, the television set started to say something that caught Jeanette’s attention. “The decapitated body of security guard, Gerald Orton, was found inside a local shopping mall.” That definitely hadn’t happened before, but it didn’t affect them, so it wasn’t something to worry about right now.

The next day the family went on an outing to Cleveland Park. It was cloudy, and the trees appeared to be leaning, weary of the day. Even the grass seemed to be drooping to hide from the day. The two adults were settled on their checkered blanket, while the kids were off playing. Some strange girl was walking by, in torn stockings, but she didn’t seem to draw much attention as she calmly walked along the path.

“You know honey, we need to find more days where we can spend time with the family. Days like this are…”

“Mommy! Daddy! What’s that?” Sarah was standing there pointing towards a tiny river of red flowing out from the bushes.

“Sarah! Get away from there! Come here right now, both of you!” Jeanette yelled at the two, while her husband grabbed a cell phone and called for help.

“What’s wrong mommy? Did we do something wrong?”

“No baby. I just don’t want you to see what’s in there. Stay here, okay?” They all stayed huddled there, waiting for someone to get there, until they heard a noise.

“So what’s the problem here?”

Jeanette pointed shakily to the bush, which had a growing stain around it. “Over there officer.”

The officer calmly walked over to the bushes, and walked back with his face white as a sheet. “You’re going to have to stick around to answer some questions.”

“We don’t know anything. We haven’t even seen whatever’s in there.” That didn’t change anything, however, when more people showed up to ask questions and remove a body from the park. They were finally allowed to go home, with the children sent to play in their rooms. The air was somber, not even crickets chirping to break the uncomfortable silence that floated like death in the night.

The next day it was yet another school day, so everyone in the house could get back to their normal routines. Jeanette took the kids to school, then spent the day running errands. The kids had classes, and strangely enough an assembly to talk about drugs or something.

Everyone was gathered for it, waiting, but the speaker didn’t seem to be coming to the stage. Then the house lights went out. Unusual for a speaker, but an auditorium was designed for such things, so it wasn’t completely horrible. A girl walked onto the stage, probably in her late teens. She was wearing glittery boots, with the same torn stockings that had been seen other places. The rest of her outfit was also revealing, as well as shimmering too. Her hair seemed an odd mess, as if it had been dyed with something, dirty.

She held up a skull, beginning to have what seemed like a private conversation. “What did you say Mr. Orton? I don’t think anyone here would do that. Do I have to? You know they’ll probably scream? How many more would you like? But that’ll take forever. Can’t I just wait a while? When will I be done? Really? Yay! I’ll get started right away then!” She dropped the skull, looking as the principal approached her. “I’m so sorry. Forgive me?”

She grabbed a sword from behind her and swung it at the principal as he approached. As the body fell to the floor, separate from the head, screams started ringing out from the crowd. She hopped down, slowly walking through the auditorium, apologizing with every swing and waiting for the plop and thud before continuing on to the next target. Screaming swept over her in waves even as she picked out the quiet whimpering of those unable run and silenced them. After a few minutes alarms started blaring and she finished up her work as everyone left her alone.

Sarah and James managed to get out of the auditorium with the crowd. Their ears kept ringing, and all they could hear was terrified sobbing. Even after they were picked up, the sound just seemed to get a bit quieter, but kept on. Dinner that night was quiet. Not even the television was turned on to interrupt the pall that had fallen over the house. The family opted to sit on the couch together afterwards. None particularly wished for the inevitable loss of consciousness to have visions of what had happened play in their head. Of course once the children were both out, they were carried carefully to lay down in their beds. Their parents went to lay in their own bed and wait out the night. They whispered thoughts of what to do the next day, but neither of them seemed to be confident in any plans.

The floorboards seemed to creak constantly in the night. It became impossible for the pair to focus on anything but the noises that signalled intruders at every turn. When they heard a voice, they listened, but knew it had to be in their heads. Nothing else could possibly happen tonight.

“Don’t worry. He wants you. It won’t hurt much. I promise.” The voice couldn’t be mistaken any longer. They both rushed out into the hallway in their night clothes, sliding to a stop, confronting the strangely dressed girl, her outfit covered in dry blood, her face streaked with crimson liquid left to dry slowly as it obeyed gravity.

Jeanette squealed in shock, recognizing the girl from reports of what had happened. “Grab the kids and get out of here. Now! I’ll follow after.” She took a stance, trying to appear fearsome, but allowing her face to betray the fear she felt.

Her husband looked at her, “I love you. Be safe.” He followed her instructions grabbing his babies, one in each arm, as he ran for the stairs, the door, and safety. He thought he heard someone say “Sorry” as he ran out of earshot.

“Daddy? What’s going on?” Sarah was waking up, wiping her eyes and looking around.

“Go back to sleep dear. We’re just going to visit some friends. Mommy will be right behind us.” He checked the car, but all four tires seemed to be flat. Not suitable for what he had in mind. Instead he ran. The police station was only a few blocks away. It would be no problem.

As he ran, he started to hear laughter behind him that crept up his spine, seeming to make all his hairs stand on end. As he turned to get a look, he tripped over something, losing his grip on James and barely protecting Sarah from the fall.

The laughter stopped as the clomp, clomp, clomp of feet got closer and slowed down. “I’m so sorry, but it’s almost over.” She walked around the two huddled together and went for the lone boy laying whimpering on the street. As Sarah and her father got up, the whimpering suddenly stopped.

“Sarah, just run. Run for safety.” He grabbed a metal bar that had been left in the street for whatever reason. Sarah stood frozen, eyes wide in terror at seeing what was happening, just watching.

The teen ran at him swinging for his head as she’d done so many times before, but this time it was blocked and she passed out as a sharp blow rang across the back of her neck making a sickening crunch as she fell to the pavement. “It’s alright Sarah. You’re going to be alright.” He dropped his makeshift weapon, turning to take care of his daughter when a tall man appeared behind him. All Sarah could do was point as this pale faced man in the fancy suit grabbed her father and seemed to rip him in half right in front of her.

“Now my little morsel, you will do what I say and you shall live. I know you’ll fare better than this one.” His lips curled up in some gruesome approximation of a smile as he offered his hand to the little girl still rooted in the street.

[Dirty n Evil]

Artemisia, I'm going to apologize. I would have thought being on vacation would be better for possibly writing. And I'm actually feeling a bit of the opposite, currently. Perhaps it's because I'm living alone for the first time during a vacation, with virtually no human interaction unless I have to go to the store for something. I've been looking at your image prompt... and I'm simply not getting anything. Then I've tried to shift gears, try to work on some other writing that I've been wanting to attempt... and I'm still drawing a blank.

Trust me, this has been very unexpected - and unwelcome. Hopefully, it passes soon.

[Artemisia]

DnE, I understand. Sometimes it's hard to come up with things, and it all depends on what drives you to write. If you are someone who writes because of your interactions with others, then it makes sense that you're not feeling it right now.