Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Write and Win! Wednesday's Writing Prompt

Today is day two of this week's creative writing prompt contest. Remember, you have to write a response to all three (Monday, Wednesday, and Friday). You have until Saturday to write a response so join in the fun!

Wednesday's writing prompt: At the police station. . .

Have fun!

If you're not writing, hopefully you're reading this week's Book-A-Week Challenge "The Keys to the Vault - A Caroline Baker Adventure" by Jim Colombo.

Don't forget to return here to the blog on Sunday to see an interview with Jim about his book and his writing. Stop by, tell him how much you enjoyed the book, and even ask a question.

To order a copy of the book go here or click the Amazon link in the scrolling Book-A-Week ticker on the left of the blog.


Ceri Hebert June 3, 2009 at 5:49 AM  

Yeah, this one can fit in nicely with one of my wips. Will get to it this afternoon after work.

Stephanie Queen June 3, 2009 at 4:32 PM  

I want to play your prompt-writing game, but where and when do I write and how much?
Stephanie G.

Stephanie Queen June 3, 2009 at 5:11 PM  

OK, I read your instructions (even though it's against my religion to actually read and follow instructions)and now I know what to do. So here goes:

At the police station she parked out front with the rest of the cops, even though she wasn't officially one of them. She wasn't worried about a ticket--she'd have Sherlock fix it. After all, she was doing him a favor by being here.
Sashaying past the front desk and to the elevator, she started to lose her nerve when the officer called after her asking her business. Guess he was new or didn't get the memo. She hoped there was a memo. She was going way out on a limb playing at this investigation business.
The elevator doors opened and she stepped on, squared her shoulders and reminded herself that she was here to deliver the goods--or whatever one called key information that would break open this all important case.

Stephanie Queen June 3, 2009 at 5:12 PM  

I just thought of something, I hope these paragraphs don't have to be part of the same story---do they?
(darn, I should have finished reading those instructions!)

Denise June 3, 2009 at 6:10 PM  


No, they do nopt have to be from the same story. They're supposed to be off the cuff and fun.

And yours was fun! I like her sashaying! Good description.


Ceri Hebert June 3, 2009 at 6:33 PM  

Fun? I don't do fun... I'm a drama queen.

Will be working on mine in a sec.

Ceri Hebert June 3, 2009 at 6:43 PM  

Okay, here's my go at it....


At the police station Rio waited for Travis to come out. She paced from one wall, looking out at the snowy night, back to the counter and stared at the faces on the wanted posters. Dead beat dads ruled the walls with an occasional dead beat mom tossed in for good measure.

Cold eyes. Each one of these so called parents had cold eyes. But none so cold as her own mother’s. Rio wrapped her arms around herself. Despite the fact the waiting room was comfortably warm, she felt chilled to the bone.

Get the hell out of here.

It would be the logical thing to do. In fact Travis probably hoped she would. If it had just been her mother they’d brought in she wouldn’t have given the woman the time of day. But Storm had been with her. Storm, her little brother who, growing up, she’d wanted more than anything to save from the desolate upbringing they were subjected to.

How had their mother done it? Did she have to convince him to drive all the way up to New Hampshire and break into Cobble Creek? Or had he been a willing participant. Rio had to know. That was the only reason why she didn’t leave.

She had to look both her mother and her brother in the eye and demand to know what was so important that they had to bust in to her boss’s house and put the old woman in the hospital.

Denise June 3, 2009 at 6:44 PM  

Yes you are!And good at it.


Ceri Hebert June 3, 2009 at 6:49 PM  

:) Well, the short story I just submitted is a little humorous. When I write in first person I tend to have more of a sense of humor.

Denise June 3, 2009 at 8:06 PM  

Ok - here goes mine.

At the police station. . .

At the police station, Jane sat stone-faced staring at the two-way mirror of the interrogation room. She had been sitting in the claustrophobic, gray room on a hard metal chair for the last thirty minutes. She had worked up quite a bit of steam. Treat her like a criminal would they. Well, she would just see about that.

The room, uncomfortable and stuffy, made her feel as if she were on display. She shuddered as the image of her in a glass-enclosed room stripping for some peeping voyeur who drops money down a chute flashed in her mind. Five minutes for five dollars the pink neon sign flashed overhead. “Stop it,” she mumbled then jumped when the door to the room opened.

Detective Jerk walked in, a sour smile on his face, and two bottles of water in his hands. He set one down in front of her and straddled the only other chair in the confined space.

With shaky hands, Jane opened the lid, tilted the bottle up to her lips, and drank as though she hadn’t had anything to drink in days.

“Why did you blow up the Starbucks?”

The question startled her. She gasped, choking on his words and the water. She bolted up from her seat, sent the chair tumbling behind her, water drowning her clothes.

“What?” She swiped at her soaking wet shirt and ordered her heart to stop racing inside her chest.

“Sit down, Jane.”

His command sent a shiver skittering down her spine and goosebumps popped up all over her flesh. His fingers tightened around her arm as he propelled her forward, the touch launching a tremor of anxiety ricocheting through her. She attempted to shrug off his grip but failed.

When he picked up the chair and tried to put her in it, Jane held her ground. “Do – not – touch – me,” she ground out, enunciating every word so he could not miss her meaning.

Her arm dropped to her side as he released it then took a step back and held his hands up palm out. “Are you okay?”

Okay? She blinked in surprise. Okay? For a brief second she stared at him as if the detective had lost his mind. “Okay?” Jane snapped. “No, I’m not okay.” Be calm and cool, she warned herself and shoved hair out of her face. It didn’t work. “Are you completely nuts? Starbucks exploded right when I pulled past the drive-thru. I was almost a roasty-toasty! And you – you –“ She got up in his face, poked a well-manicured finger at his chest. “You accuse me of firebombing the place!”

Jane spun away from him, gulped in air, and sought a calmness she did not feel. “Am I under arrest?” she demanded as she whirled back to face her accuser.

“No, Jane. You’re here for questioning, to help us determine what happened.”

“That’s easy, you dumb oaf!” She slammed the water bottle onto the table. “BOOM!” Ignoring the stunned look on his face, Jane marched toward the door. “I’m outta here.” Rage carried her forward and she flung the door open.

Before she crossed the threshold a hand clamped down on her arm, and she was jerked back. “What the –”

Denise June 3, 2009 at 8:09 PM  


Okay, makes me want to find out what was so important!

OK - so cool to see how so far we have one character trying to get in, one character waiting on the outside, and one character wanting to leave the police station.

Very neat!!


Ceri Hebert June 3, 2009 at 8:25 PM  

Great job! I love the fact that they suspect Jane of blowing up the Starbucks. You may have an almost complete story with prompts alone!

Stephanie, I understand about reading instructions. I ruin more recipes because I don't read instructions. Still, you did a terrific job!

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