A Quick Thanks and Writing Prompt, “When I first told…”

Wow, thanks guys so much for your comments and insight on when to kill characters! It means a lot to me that you guys are reading and care enough to leave a few words or two.

I think the plan is to work on my story in the next few days and see what happens. I think I will write my character’s death and see how it works out for the story…and if it seems too much, and not at all fitting for the story, I can always go back and change it.

That’s something that I am still wrestling with…I shouldn’t expect something to be perfect from the get go, because nothing really is, so why should writing be like that? The great thing about first drafts…you can always go back and edit!

I think I’ll try something new for tonight, and do a quick writing prompt. Time to breathe deep, sit back, relax, and get to writing!

Hope everyone has a great night! Happy Writing!


Writing Prompt, “When I first told my family about ___ they didn’t believe me.”  (This one’s from The Pocket Muse, by Monica Wood.)

wpid-img_20150901_200812317.jpgWhen I first told my family about the aliens, they didn’t believe me.

“Aliens? Here? In this dinky town?” scoffed my sister. She rummaged around in her purse and pulled out some lipstick. “Please, Caddie, your imagination is too big for your own good.”

“But there were!” I insisted. “I just got done at the bank and I stepped out on the curb and there it was: this giant red flying saucer hovering over the clock tower on Church Street. I yelled, ‘holy crap! What is that!” and several people came running.”

“Were there police?” said my mother, who was standing at the counter, doing dishes. She didn’t seem too interested in the conversation. No, she looked tired. Like she always looked nowadays after her and Daddy split up.

“I think so,” I said, as I leaned against the kitchen counter next to her. My sister, Teresa, was sitting on a stool at the table in the center of the kitchen, and she was still reapplying her lipstick. “Terese, it looks fine, don’t you care at all about what I have to say? Aliens? Red saucer? End of the world?”

“Please,” she said, as she smacked her lips and emerged from behind her compact. “You’re just being dramatic. It’s probably some hoax, or someone from the city making a movie. You’re always making up little stories of yours, baby sister.”

“Just because I’m a writer, doesn’t mean I’m lying,” I pouted. “Mom, don’t you believe me?”

“Sure, honey,” said Mom with a tired smile and soapy pat.

“Don’t you guys want to hear what they look like?”

“You saw them?” said Terese with a raise of her eyebrows. She made a face. “Were there testicles?” She gasped and put her hands to her face and I knew she was making fun of me. “Laser beams?” she shrieked.

I grumbled as she stomped from the room in her heels, her laughter echoing around our drafty house. It seemed so empty nowadays.

“What’s Dad doing this weekend?” I asked Mom tentatively. I tried not to sound hopeful. Spring break started next week, and I wanted to see him before me and few friends left for vacation. And before I had to go back to classes and studying and more studying.

“I don’t know,” said Mom, “Why don’t you give him a call?”

“Have…you guys talked recently?”

Mom shrugged. “Here and there.”

“So, he’s not coming over for dinner anytime soon?”

Mom scrubbed a pan, although it didn’t really need anymore cleaning. “It was his choice to leave,” she said, I could barely hear her. “He knows where we are if he wants to find us.”

“I don’t think it’s like that–”

“Please honey, you don’t know what its like.”

I eyed my mother but she had that stern, impenetrable look on her face. Something that used to only be softened by Daddy’s laughter, and her babies. But we were all grown up now and Dad was gone.

“Are there really aliens about to run amok among us?” she asked when I didn’t say anything.

My smile was brief. “There was an art show in town today. Someone had painted a red saucer over church street, and the clock tower…it was a good likeness.”

Mom nodded and the smile almost reached her eyes. Almost. “Give your Dad a call, honey…you never know. But he doesn’t want to talk to me.”  She dried her hands on a towel, gave my arm a squeeze and then left the room.

I pulled the phone off the cradle on the kitchen counter, and dialed Dad’s new cell number.

He answered on the fifth ring. “Caddie? What’s up honey?”

“Hey Dad, guess what? I saw some aliens in town today…”

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