Posted in Writing

Looney Tunes Writing Prompt

You wake up one morning and find yourself inside a Looney Tunes cartoon with a burning desire to hunt down a certain Bugs Bunny, no matter the cost. What happens next?

I wake with the sun’s debut as the rays sneakily evade the cabin through dark blinds. I hear birds singing their sweet morning songs a little too close to my window. I consider telling them to shove off. Or I will stuff them.

Two things are apparent as I spring myself from my place of comfort–  One, I am obviously pretty cranky this morning. Where is the coffee around here? Two, I feel like I should be hunting a rabbit. Can I hunt? I don’t think I have ever liked rabbit. Maybe I have just never tried it.  One comes to mind in my sleepy stupor, I think I will know him when I see him.

I notice I am drooling, and carefully wipe the drool from my chin. I fling myself from the bed. I notice stairs leading down from the cozy little loft. I try to make sense of these unfamiliar surroundings– this hunting cabin. The walls are covered with mounted deer, fish, and any kind of animal breathing. A gun rack is mounted above the impressive built-in fire place holding a couple of engraved Winchester 1873’s. I won’t consider touching those. Nearby a red mahogany gun cabinet sits in the hall, I remind myself to look for the key on the way to the bathroom. It will come in handy hunting down the rabbit.

I find the bathroom nearby the kitchen, which by the way, is nothing impressive. NO coffee pot. Really? Who doesn’t have one of those? My belly growls like some ferocious beast, and reminds me this rabbit has to die! My business is quick. I have no desire to catch up with the outside word, and I skip the shower. This rabbit has taken over my thought process. Must have rabbit!

I run out of the bathroom, and am quick to dress. I throw on my hunting gear, lace up my boots, and grab a hunting rifle. Wondering if I do indeed know how to work one of these things. Guess I will find out! I wonder where he could be, and what he could possibly be doing right now. But it really doesn’t matter. Because I will find him.

When I step out of the cabin, I notice.. I’m in a cartoon??? What! How did I get here?

My hunger overwhelms me as my hunger pangs pierce my gut. My feet take off as if they have the wings of Apollo on them. I look down, and they do. Awesome! This should make it easier. I feel like I am floating on air.

The deer look up from eating grass, and leap away happily. Making sounds like coil-springs. Chipmunks are having a picnic on the grass. That is when I see the tracks… Rabbit tracks.

I follow them through the thick fall foliage. I am careful to be very quiet while I’m tracking, but my stomach growling is not helping. I don’t remember when the last time I ate. In fact, I don’t remember anything passed this morning. Weird.

I see more tracks. I find where the furry cretin lives. I must be getting close when I am whacked with an iron skillet.

When I wake, I see hummingbirds flying over my head. I hear coo-coo. I feel that way. Ow, my head. I rub the knot on the back of my neck that instantly grows as long as Pinocchio’s nose.

I try to move, but cannot.  I am securely tied to a chair. I squint trying to take in my surroundings, but it’s dark. I am underground? In a rabbit hole? What the hell?

A light flashes on, and I realize we are in a living room. Big enough for a rabbit, obviously, though not big enough for a human. It’s colorful. Not a bad bachelor pad, rabbit. TV, recliner, bookshelf.

I look down as if first realizing I AM a cartoon. Glaring into a mirror I notice I am brighter, and sharper in ways I wasn’t before. I like the way I am drawn. Remind me to thank the artist. I think I have grown a cup or two. Although, how did I get here, and why can’t I remember anything? 

“So what’s up, Doc? Why are you hunting rabbit?” A tall, grey talking rabbit asks me. He gnaws on a giant orange carrot with his white-gloved hands, and he looks a little pissed.

I hope you liked it. I have been away for a week!! I was faithful to my writing habit every morning the week before last, then we had company. Still, I found time to work. I’m back with it, again. Getting up early. Still working. Just haven’t had time to post!

I’ll make it back! Hope everyone has been having a good summer!

Posted in Blogging, Life

The Struggle.

The Struggle.

 

Weighed-down, Overwhelmed.

Smiling, I’m fine– though inside

Struggling. By myself.

 

Losing it. Crumbling.

As I court crazy– it seems?

Layers of grief

tumble…

 

Things I never said.

Things I should have done– but no.

Things I want to do.

 

I forget so easy.

I’m damaged beyond repair.

Yet somehow, I smile.

© LC

 

 

Posted in Writing Classes

All is Well.

All is well with my writing classes. The only thing going for me right now in the way of writing. My creative gears may not turning (little sleep contributing); however, I am using this time wisely to read and study my craft. I’ve set goals for myself since I’ve too much going on here right now.

I have projects started. I just need to follow-through, which isn’t always the easiest for me. I know I’ll get there. I have a plan.

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I’m going to get up in the morning when the hubby goes to work, and write. resisting any urges to clean up. Or do any chores. I will have coffee, and plant myself firmly on the sofa.

This will be the best time for me to write before my children are awake. I’ve tried this approach, but my O.C.D. tendencies take over sometimes. Not as often as it used to. Folding clothes can wait.

What happens next– I will grab my coffee, sit on the sofa, wrap myself in my blanket, make sure neither child can be woken up by my brute of a dog, and turn on my computer to become immersed in social media.

I am torn between doing school, the urge to write, and catching up with people. Sometimes I feel guilty for putting my friends on hold to write. I don’t use the social media outlet as often as I once did, and when I question myself as to why– I can never find a good reason.

Maybe I am becoming a technophobe. I hate cellphones. My husband always has his in front of his face, and I’m determined not to become the same way when he is at home. During the day, it can be chaos here with two kids.

In the morning, my cell will start vibrating as I’m sitting here. Usually it is my mother. If I tell her I’m awake, she will want to talk even though she knows I’m writing. I feel bad, of course, because she is my mother. So I’ll call her.

After-all, the woman did raise me. I owe her my time and attention. And a whole lot of patience. She is coming up on her 74th birthday, and I know I caused her a lot of her white hairs.

By this time, any time I may have wanted to spend writing toward my book or blogging is dwindling. My children are starting to stir. My silly oaf of a dog grows impatient because his playmates aren’t up yet, and gets noisy.

I’ve decided I’m going to turn my phone off for a couple of hours in the morning so I can write. It may only be a couple of hours every morning, but maybe in those two hours I can do something productive. Eventually they will add up to something.

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If anyone needs me and it’s urgent.. they know how to find me. This is something I have to do for me. Then, during the day if I have any extra time I can write– that is a bonus. I can carve out extra time later.

I did figure out I can write more of Tuck and Alice even though I published them here. Another famous author publishes all his first drafts for his readers to glance at. Which is brave! (Think it was Branden Sanderson?)

I recently joined a writers community called Authonomy. I haven’t had the time to look around much yet, but if anyone else is interested–

Authonomy

I am hoping to be back at it again soon. Not sleeping can really wear a person down. Zapping any creativity they may have had.

What are your biggest challenges when it comes to your writing? Do you have any rituals you find helpful?

Posted in Blogging, Writing Classes

Distractions.

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It’s summer! My children are out of school, and along with that presents some challenges with finding time to write.

I thought I started into a good routine ending my last class. Felt positive going forward. Then, it seemed everything hit the fan again here at home.

I can’t seem to stay interested in my writing class. I think it’s half my trouble. My last instructor was so encouraging, and inspiring.

The one I have now she’s nice and does encourage; however, at times, she seems to give everyone the same generic response. Blah, blah, blah.

Every time I sit down to the computer with the intention to write, I find myself becoming lost in social media. Or finding chores I need to do. I will sign in to my class, ho-hum around to see what is going on, lack of interest sets in, and I’m gone.

I’m restless…

I turn on the radio, and cannot find a song to satisfy me. I’ll constantly switch channels on Pandora. I sit down without knowing what I want to do, really. Watch a movie?  Nah!

Get back up, clean, de-clutter, and do some laundry. I have books on my kindle. I start reading them to quickly become uninterested in the plot for whatever reason. Has anyone read anything good?

Eventually, I suppose I will write something good. I fell too far behind in my one course to catch up. I will take it again at some point. It’s with my instructor I’ve taken a few courses with, and provides encouragement/feedback. She will understand.

I’m looking forward to my upcoming writing classes. I hope my writing instructors are as good as this one. I’ve learned so much from her!

Posted in Writing

Alice and Tuck.

I wake from my nightmare drenched in my own sweat. Arms and legs sticking to the cotton sheets, I struggle a bit to free myself. The same dream haunts me nightly. The same azure pupils I’ve become lost in for the last fifteen years—captivate me. His strong, muscular arms – hold me prisoner. His tantalizing kiss —enslaves me.

I hear the train whistle in the distance. As the train comes to a stop, the brakes hiss. Tuck stands in his newly pressed uniform handsome as ever. I run my fingers through his short blonde hair. I love the new cut; however, he looks as if he forgot something at home. Maybe he is second guessing his choice. We both promised the other we would not cry today.

“This is only training. I will be back in six weeks before I ship out on tour.” He tells me with a sad smile. He pulls me closer to him by my waist closing the distance between us. We have never been more than five miles apart. Being states away from each other is foreign.

I nod returning the sad smile. I hold back the tears threatening to come at any second, and try not to talk much. I feel like I am choking on them. We stand in an embrace. My head on his shoulder. It feels natural this way. Out of the two of us, he has been the strong one— always.

“Remember Alice, I love you, and it is going to be okay. I’ll see you in a few weeks. I will find a way to communicate, I promise.” His tone is reassuring.

“I love you too Tuck. I believe you. ” Our eyes meet with my reply as he tilts my chin upward. His lips are soft, and tender. When he pulls away, we are both smiling. He leaves me craving more of his sweet kisses.

He is still smiling when he boards the train. I try not to let him see the tears sneaking from the corners of my eyes. He yells , “See you soon!” He looks as if he wants to say more, but he doesn’t. The same puzzled look from earlier appears on his face. For a moment, I wonder if he will jump off the train.

“I will see you soon!” I reply.

I watch the train pull away with the man I have loved since we were children.

Two years ago word came Tuck was dead. Only my heart won’t accept this to be true. Tuck would never leave me.

©  2015 LC

Not sure about this…

Trying to develop more of the Alice and Tuck story. Thoughts are appreciated at any time.

Some backstory: Wedding Day Prompt

Posted in Writing

Challenge Me and Feedback.

Of all the writing prompts previously mentioned in my blog–

The Wedding Prompt-

Today’s Children-

Rough Day —

AND

Martha and John

which one would you like to see developed into a short story?

Also, do you like the layout? I am trying to make up MY mind. I can be a bit indecisive.

Posted in Writing Classes

Today’s Children– Prompt.

Here is a prior prompt to hold you over.

Start out with “Today’s Children…”

“Today’s children should be taught to respect each other, and stand up for each other against bullies. I am proud of you, Kyle, for standing up for Eric today. It wasn’t right of Thomas picking on a child who can’t defend himself.” Elise says as she gently fixes his black eye.

He tried to hide it from her as he sauntered up the sidewalk from school. But Elise standing at her post—the kitchen sick—knew something was wrong the minute she laid eyes on him. He was never good at hiding things from her. He always teased she has the eyes of a hawk.

“But how did you know about Thomas?” Kyle asks fidgeting away from her touch.

“The school called to inform me you were in a fight, and Thomas would be expelled. Even though you were defending Eric, you are also expelled for fighting.” Elise sighs as she finishes bandaging his eye, and looks as his bruised knuckles. “I’d hate to see the other guy, Kyle, though you know fighting isn’t the answer. You know you can’t keep doing this like some vigilante. Standing up for those who cannot do it themselves is great, but you don’t have to get physical.”

Kyle huffs, stands up, and hugs his mom. “It’s just so hard being in middle school. There is so much drama. I’m sorry mom for fighting, but you don’t understand what it’s like there.”

Oh, sweetheart, believe me I’ve been young once. You think because I’m starting to get gray hair, and a few wrinkles I’m old! She motions to her hair and face animatedly. But behind this physical appearance is a younger version of me who has been exactly where you are, I think we can handle this together, okay?”

© 2015 LC

Posted in Writing Classes

Wedding Blog Prompt

Wedding ring-Comedian-Thunderstorm

Flashes of white light streak the sky, as heavy drops of water cascade from the heavens, to the rhythm of my windshield wipers—they struggle to keep up.  An exasperated sigh escapes my lips, I will never make the wedding at this grueling rate.  I run my fingers through my short blonde hair. Checking  in the rear-view to make sure I don’t feel how I look. I have been on the road for days. Taking a personal oath to find Alice, and bring her home. I focus my attention back on driving. Not realizing my fists are in balls.

Bringing me back from my reverie, thunder crashes nearby with white-blue lightning striking an office building not too far down the road. As luck would have it, it is another abandoned office building the city never reclaimed for use. Cars are frantically trying to move out-of-the-way as taxi cabs blare a melody—the song of the city.

Eons ago, Alice promised we’d never live in the city. Here I am, searching for her. On her wedding day- of all days, she thinks I am dead. As my car turns up the drive to the church, I gaze upon the cathedral. We imagined marrying in a church like this when we were young. It’s raining yet, and I pray it was enough to delay the wedding.

The engine off, I look around trying to gauge my surroundings. On the corner, a panhandler telling jokes underneath a bus shelter. He doesn’t seem afraid of the storm. I wonder if it’s because he doesn’t have anything left to lose.

I start walking toward the church realizing both bride, and groom spared no expense. From the looks of the parking lot, they invited everyone they know. The decorations left standing are lavish. The roaring winds swept some away.

I hear the chorus of the cathedral bells, and think I am too late. I hope it’s the wind. I pull the ring out of my pocket, and glance at it one last time. Wondering if I will have the courage to ask her what I regret not asking her before I left  THAT day…dressed in my uniform. Waving from the train. If only I could go back to THAT day.

The doors open, and for the first time I gaze upon her pale face. Her surprise shows on her face as her yellow-brown eyes lock with mine. That moment is ours.  Though it’s not quite the response I was hoping for as she starts to scream. “Tuck! I thought you were dead! This can’t be!”

The church goes completely still. No one knows where to look. At Alice. Or at Me. Or the groom. The music has stopped. In that moment, we are frozen in time. We are all shards of glass. So delicate.

“Can you give us a moment, please, Josh?” Alice says.

Her amber eyes glisten with happy tears. Or maybe they are sad.

“Sure, I will be waiting right here.” He says. Looking confused.  Turning to his best man who puts a hand on his shoulder.

The church erupts in hushed whispers, as we walk toward a darkened room, my stomach turns to butterflies. Her eyes turn to fire.

 

© 2015 LC