Hello there!
Our family has been greatly missing these story prompts, and so today we went back to them. In case anyone else wanted In on the exercise, I'm posting our first new prompt here.

We decided to extrapolate on Lisa's prompt on the Harris Burdick mysteries, and so, with no more ado, I present the title and picture prompt a Strange Day in July.



He threw with all his might... but the third stone came skipping back.

Hey guys!
I hope your all doing well. Its been ages since anyone posted a prompt, and I've really been missing the experience. School right now has been hectic, and I really need the writing expirience. So, if none of you mind, I'll be posting prompts for myself and others to work on a couple times a week.

I'm gonna keep up all the same stuff. 30 minutes spent on each prompt, unless posted otherwise, and feel free to share different writing excersizes. Try to come up with unique ideas to write on and stretch your writing ability.

Happy writing,
Erik.

I Was Born Unimportant:

I think this was Sarah's prompt, back in April. She challenged me to join her in a quick response. I'll post mine in comments and ask her to post hers as well.

Read previous first

the answers to the previous post are:
1. a
2. a
3. b, the zombie army is invincible so we can't be sure the apocalypse will end
4. b, saves money and builds relationships, why not?
5. c, the lack of oxygen & air pressure would kill you in a manner of seconds
6. a, 90 degrees latitude is the North Pole, where there are no palm trees, bamboo plants, or penguins

Test Yourself!

The Science of Rarely Seen or Used Scenarios: Topic 1-4 Quiz

Unit D: Commodities Gone Apocalyptic

NAME:_____________

TRUE/FALSE - Circle the correct response to each question. 1 point each.

1. There is a penguin that can live in parts of Africa.

   a. True

   b. False

2. Water at the bottom of the ocean can be heated to 750 degrees Fahrenheit and not boil.

   a. True

   b. False

MULTIPLE CHOICE – choose the response that is the best answer. 1 point each.

3. You have only days until you are attacked by an invincible massive zombie army. Do you:

   a. build your own zombie army to counterattack

   b. schedule a makeover and/or maiming to try and blend in with the zombie ranks

   c. tunnel underground and wait out the apocalypse

   d. switch sides

4. All of your underwear except for the pair you are wearing was burned when a fire started in your dresser. The clothing stores have all gone bankrupt. Referencing the Holy Bible, which option is best?

   a. to wash your only pair daily

   b. make all things 'common among you' and borrow one of your siblings pairs

   c. follow the example of Adam and Eve by sewing your own out of rabbit furs and corn husks

   d. not bother with clothes anymore, the cavemen could handle it, why can't we?

5. Your bloodthirsty time-traveling archenemy has finally caught up with you and is bent on your destruction. Which would cause the least pain?

   a. swallowed alive by a Tyrannosaurus Rex

   b. a gladiator fight with Hercules

   c. ejection into a black hole

   d. all of the above

6. You are on an island +90o latitude and your iPod charger on another island six miles of shark infested waters away. Which has the greatest possibility of succeeding?

   a. brave the waters and hope the sharks aren't biting

   b. build a bridge using all the palm trees you can find

   c. hitch a ride with a friendly penguin

   d. build a helicopter out of bamboo

the Tactical Advantage of Sickliness

Half the Gorham/Hudson family is sick at the moment, so I decided I'd provide a happy list of the advantages of this condition in order to help us better appreciate how less unfortunate we really are. Feel free to add something!

Advantages of being sick:

-no school

-catch up with your favourite TV series

-get to eat breakfast, lunch and dinner twice over and still loose weight

-nobody wants to borrow your stuff

-lots of me time

-touch up on those parts of the Princess Bride you haven't yet committed to heart

-nobodies asking you to clean your bedroom

-catch up on sleep schedule

-find the limit on just how many times you can wash your clothes

-showers twice a day

-grounds to kill anyone who complains about the food

-newfound appreciation of the holding capacity of the human stomach

-Pyjamas!!! Until you run out of them!!!

The Pigs Got Out of the Pig Pen

Here's Sam's response:

Dear Journal,

Frankie the Chicken ran out of the pig pen with the pigs chasing after him. The machine was almost done. All they needed was mud mixed with pig manure that Frankie was running for dear life with, with the pigs chasing after him.

Hurry, Frankie!” Bobby yelled. “That's the last ingredients we need to finish the machine. And we don't need a chicken that's pig food.”

“I'm a chicken! How do you expect me to run faster than pigs? We were designed to be bad runners, you know. Why don't you try running faster than slobbery pigs?”

“I got the spit,” Bobby huffed.

“Out of your own mouth,” Frankie sneered.

“Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! Try and fly over the fence of the chicken coop so the pigs can't catch you,” Bobby urged.

“Chickens can't fly, you know.”

“They can for about three seconds.”

“Yeah. And that's going to get me over the fence?”

“Look! A human's coming. Maybe he'll scare the pigs away.”

“Maybe. And maybe he'll just eat us for supper.”

“Remember, that's the last ingredients we need. We'll be eating him for supper.”

“What if it doesn't work?”

“The owl said it would. Owls are the smartest creatures in the whole world.”

“Oh. The human's just driving his car to work. Okay. I'm going to try flying. One... two... three... four...”

Just then, Frankie flew over the fence and fell into the chicken coop.

“Yrgradhgrrahhyyrrstch.”

“Pig talk,” Frankie said.

“Didja get it? Didja get it? Didja get it?” Peater asked.

“Yes. I got it.”

“Okay. Then let's fire up the machine.”

“Who'd like to push the button?”

“Duckie, would you like to?”

“Yup! Yup! Yup!”

“Now all the chickens in the barnyard will become gigantic!”

“Yay!” all the chickens yelled.

“Three... Two... One... Pushing!” Duckie said.

“I'm a vegetarian,” Jakey said.

“You don't have to eat them. We just want to for the fun of it. You can just sit down and play around.”

All of a sudden, before anyone could say another sentence, they all grew as big as a barn.

“Yay! Eeeee! Yeah! Yeah! Yay!” all the chickens yelled.

“Wyagyack,” Wakey the Pig said.

All the pigs ran out of the pig pen with a whole bunch of giant chickens chasing them.

“I'm gonna eat you with a side of bacon,” Duckie said.

“They are bacon,” Frankie corrected.

“Well, then I'm gonna eat you with a side of lettuce.”

“I'm tired,” Sleepy yawned.

“Well, we have some humans to eat and a world to take over. Let's see how they like being eaten with basil and garlic.”

“I'm gonna eat them with barbeque sauce,” Wookie said.

“The chickens are coming! The chickens are coming!” the maid of the house said.

“The sky is falling,” Chicken Little said.

“You mean the rain is falling from the sky.”

“No. The sky is falling!”

They looked up and saw a whole bunch of army helicopters trying to bomb them.

“We need to fly up and grab those helicopters. Can anyone fly?”

“I can fly for four seconds,” Frankie said.

Well, that will do.”

“What does this button do,” Sleepy asked.

“No! That will shrink us!”

Psshew. They all started to shrink.

“What does this button do?” Sleepy pointed to a red button that said DO NOT PUSH.

“No! That's self-destruct! DO NOT PUSH!”

Sleepy pushed it.

“Now we're going to be eaten with basil and garlic. And it's all Sleepy's fault.”

“What did I do?” Sleepy asked.

Love,

Sam

2001

Prompt for Sept 13

Mickey didn't like his supper

Lizzie's response is fabulous. I'm asking her to post it.

Back At It

We're back to school work and 9-year-old Sam is trying to qualify for homeschooling this month. So we're doing 30 minute writes again. In Sam's case, he's dictating while I scribe his story. He has writing practice separately. I'm astonished at the creativity and flow of his stories. So we're posting again.

Oh, and Meg's response to the first writing prompt was surprising in another way. Yikes. I never guessed my sweet Meg would be so good at horror.

First prompt, from Sept 12, 2012 was: My dog buried a bone in the back yard.

Here's Sam's response:

Dear Journal,

My dog buried a bone in the back yard while we were looking for dinosaur bones.

"Snoopy," I said, "You're supposed to put that in the bowl." Then I realized it was a turkey bone, and I said, "Oh. You found that from the table. You can keep it."

Snoopy barked something and I'm pretty good at understanding animals. I said, "Perfect idea. We'll dig to China! Wait, Snoopy. That was a lame idea. How on earth could we dig to China in one day?"

All of a sudden, we heard a loud noise: Beep, beep, beep, beep. It was a tractor. Before I could say another word, Snoopy ran as fast as light and pushed the driver off the seat and onto the road. He was knocked out.

"Well," my best friend Will said, "we have a tractor and your parents are gone... so... let's not let it go to waste. All in favour, raise your hand."

Snoopy raised a paw, Will raised his hand, Russell raised his, and at last I raised mine.

I walked over to Will and said, "My parents are going to get me busted."

"I guess so... but not if we're in China," Will said.

"Does anybody know how to work this thing?" Russell asked.

Snoopy started jumping up and down. Before anybody could say, "No, Snoopy," he got on the tractor and started digging.

Russell pointed at ta big long digging tool and said, "We could use that instead of the shovel tool."

Snoopy drilled about six holes in the chimney before he got it aimed in the right direction. Russell decided that he should do it instead, but he was a little short. He accidentally drilled a hole in the dining room. So Will tried. Will was absolutely perfect except he didn't know where the brakes were. By the time he found the brakes, the house was in ruins. It looked like an atom bomb had just fallen on it.

There was one problem though. Right before Will found the brakes, he accidentally smashed Dad's new Lamborghini and Mom's new Jeep.

I decided it was my turn, so I jumped into the tractor and did it perfectly.

"At least your parents aren't coming home 'til tomorrow morning," Russell said.

"Yeah. Pretty good thing."

All of a sudden, the drill stopped drilling and we felt a nice, cold breeze from night. We had made it to China. But we figured out it was actually Snoopy's cold breath breathing on us. Apparently he had just eaten frozen fish from the shop.

"Bad Snoopy," I said. "You know you're not supposed to eat frozen fish from the shop."

"Ruff!" Snoopy said.

"Well, you're right. We're not supposed to dig to China with a stolen tractor, either."

"Why did the drill stop drilling though, "Will asked.

Russell looked. "It looks like Snoopy found a piece of a sausage on the brakes and lied on them and started eating it."

"Well, let's get back to work. China's not gonna dig itself down," Will said.

All of a sudden, we heard a loud noise. "It's the sound of our car that's not broken. I'm busted," I said.

"What kind of a car?" Will said.

"Oh, a rusted old truck."

"I wish we broke that instead of the Lamborghini and Jeep," Will said.

"Well, my parents are already thinking of taking it to the junkyard and having it smashed," I said.

"Probably not anymore. That's your only car left."

"Rrrr! Rrrr! Rrrr!"

"No, we can't hurry and dig to China. We've only dug 20 feet."

"Rrr. Rrr. Rrrr."

"You don't have super paws that will help us."

"Roo!"

"Do not..."

"Girls, girls! You're both pretty! We have to do something about this," Will said.

"Yes you do, young men!"

"Mom and Dad!"

"Hello son, or should we call you 'Destroyer of the Home'?"

Snoopy, Russell and Will all pointed at me and blabbered on about how it was all my fault. Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blech.

Please make them stop!

Blah, blah, blah, blah, blech.

Love,

Sam.

*Poke* Prompts?

Ehem... So I'm not sure I'm technically allowed to do this, but since it's been awhile since the last prompt, I thought I'd suggest a new one - if that's alright.

My roommate showed me this very interesting book a few weeks ago called The Mysteries of Harris Burdick.

In the introduction, it says that a man named Harris Burdick came to the publisher with a set of drawings. "I've got a story planned out for each of these drawings. Would you publish them?" the man asked. The publisher took a look at the set. Each page had an odd picture, a title and one line of a story. He was intrigued. He agreed to publish Harris Burdick's stories. Burdick left the pictures with the publisher and went away to write the stories, but never was to be seen again. Eventually, years later, the publisher decided to publish the pictures without the stories.

So, my idea for a writing prompt is this. I'll post below the links to a few of the pictures, and then we can all choose one to write about. Sound good?

Picture one: Mr. Linden's Library. "He had warned her about the book. Now it was too late."

Picture two: The Third Floor Bedroom. "It all began when someone left the window open."

Picture three: The Seven Chairs. "The fifth one ended up in France."

If you guys like this idea, we might do some of the other illustrations as well.

On Love

First off, there's still an hour to win an ARC of ENDLESSLY by entering a love poem at Kiersten White's blog here: http://kierstenwrites.blogspot.com/2012/02/very-lovely-contest.html?commentPage=2

Then, writing prompt for today is Britney Spears' "Oops I Did It Again." Prompt chosen because somebody has already written a fabulous piece prompted by that song, and I'm hoping she'll post it here. Really fabulous. Character voice is bang-on and infuriating, kind of like the voice in My Last Duchess.

Show and tell... or don't tell

Today's exercise from Seize the Story is to help develop vivid character pictures. It's a three part exercise:
1. Write a one-line description of a professional boxer without calling him or her a boxer.
2. Write a two-sentence description of a dancer without calling him or her a dancer.
3. Write a three-sentence description of a burglar without calling him or her a burglar.

My addition: these characters are not engaging in their jobs at the time you describe them. They are at the community Christmas buffet.

Shoes

One truth we all need to recognize is that small things make up the big picture. And each of these have a place in which they belong. In order for this experiment to work, you must not read ahead.

1. Free write for about 15 minutes. (you can choose the topic)

2. Go through your writing and edit anything that doesn't flow like it should, until your left with a piece of writing you wouldn't mind showing to your worst enemy.

3. Remind yourself that you're a good boy/girl, and would never, ever skip ahead.

4. Replace six plural nouns with the word "shoes".

5. You may now rewrite those sentences with a substituted word in attempt to make it make sense, but only those sentences which have had a word replaced.

Notice how the story no longer makes any sense, no matter how hard you tried. This is a rather obvious example of the role that good vocabulary plays in both your plot and diction.

Seize the Story

For the next little while, I'll be posting writing prompts taken from Victoria Hanley's Seize the Story. We bought two copies of this book, because one isn't enough for the aspiring writers in our home. I noticed great growth in Sarah's and Meg's writing thanks to this book, which is why I am now going through the exercises myself. (Because, frankly, it's a little humbling to do Nano with your daughters and discover to your delight and distress that they are now writing experts and you, gasp, need to work on it).

When I'm done these exercises, I plan to listen to Brandon Sanderson and others' podcast Writing Excuses, because, again, it's been so good for Sarah and Meg. But first, today's exercise.

So, from Seize the Story, today's prompt is:

Think of something you wish you had the nerve to say. Now imagine a character who could easily say this thing you can't. Think about the character for a few minutes. Try to see him/her with your mind's eye. Now interview him or her. Like you would if you were a talk-show host. You don't have to ask him/her about that thing you wish you could say, because, of course, then we would all know what you're wishing you could say and that might be personal. Probably is. Or you would have no trouble saying it. Just ask them whatever you want. Get to know them. For 1/2 an hour. Post the interview here.

Appearances

Deceiving or no. Enjoy.

Articles

Okay, here's a technique I've been thinking on for a while. You rewrite a fairy/folk tale using no articles. 'Articles' as in "a", "an", "the" or "some". find a way to do without them. (another form of this "exclusive writing" is to write a page containing no words consisting of a specified number of letters. These are awesome exercises for finding synonyms, and ways to rephrase)

More tomorrow!!!

CLIFFHANGERS

SATURDAY THRU MONDAYS PROMPT.

Yup, you heard me. Cliffhangers. We've all come across them, probably far oftener than we'd like to. But now... now it's our turn to torture our readers pitilessly, till they're ready to become that cliffhanger. Or maybe it's jumper. Don't worry though, suicide--however much it is considered--is never an option. "Must know what happens next!!!" Remember? Just be careful not to enjoy yourself too much, or you might very well arouse murderous thoughts within your readers. Happy writing!!!

We Are Liars

So, you know how we claimed that we'd be back here on December first?

Either we misled you with filthy, evil lies intended to break your heart and crush your soul, or we plain forgot.

But don't worry, because Sarah is nicer than all the rest of us and decided to provide you with a writing prompt, even if it is a Saturday and two days late. Behold ... The Lonely.

Now, some you may have seen this video already on my own blog, where I told you all about the heartbreaking, eerie, but mostly boring story I wrote this week and invited you to partake of the genius of Christina Perri, which is much more worthwhile. But today, I dare YOU to write a piece on The Lonely.

Come on. I dare you. If five other people post something, I shall put up my own story, even though it took longer than thirty minutes and what I really want is to bury it deep in the earth and never let mortal eyes view it. You can't pass up such a shametastic bribe, can you?

That's what I thought.

EDIT: Just realized I forgot to put an expiration date on my bribe. So let's try this again. If five people respond BEFORE Tuesday, I shall post The Lonely. Because I really, really don't want to put that story up. Like, I really don't.

Hi-ATE-Us!

Good mornin' y'all!

And it IS a good morning. Far better than yesterday, at any rate. The sky is clouded a pearly white, my house smells like oatmeal, and there are no invisible assassins in it.

Also, it is November. And I'm sure you know what that means.

IT IS NANOWRIMO TIME, PEOPLE!!! AND WE ARE BEHIND!!! SO BEHIND!!!

That is why we have very calmly and rationally decided to take a one month hiatus from 30 Min Mad. And I have helpfully prepared a list of suggestions to occupy you until December 1st, when we shall be up and running again!

If you feel BORED: Come and visit! I swear, this will banish all your boredom. We are very exciting people, even when we are all sitting in a row typing furiously and shushing each other. If you live too far away, follow me on Twitter! Or check out my personal blog. (I promise not to completely abandon it this month.) And if I'm not enough, well, here's Kiersten White, who is guaranteed to be far more entertaining and enlightening. And here is the lovely Lisa's blog, which has enough pictures of cute babies to make your head asplode. And here, completely unrelated, we have a happy kitten.

Do you still feel bored? If so, go clean your room.

If you feel DEMOTIVATED: Join us! NaNo is fun, I swear. It's not too late! There's also 750 Words, which is just like this blog but with no writing prompt and no social element and no strict time limit. But it's awesome anyway. It has become like my competitive journal.

If you still feel demotivated after doing NaNoWriMo and writing your 750 words, then you probably need serious help and this blog cannot give it to you. Go clean your room.

If you feel SAD: Hello? Halloween was just a few days ago! Bring on the chocolate!

Then you can also clean your room.

And if you feel OVERJOYED: What the heck are you doing reading this post? If you don't like the blog, you can go somewhere else. You don't have to wait for us to go on hiatus. Clean your room, lowlife.

Erm ... yeah. This post turned out rather longer than expected. And ... I think I sense an underlying theme. Perhaps a message from another plane. I'm going to go clean my room now. See y'all in a month!

Sarah's Bid For Authority

Now, I know I haven't been writing anything for these prompts lately. I've been hanging out at 750 Words and NaNoWriMo instead. *hangs head in shame* But I am here now, because I MUST present a writing prompt.

Today, dear friends/slaves, we will be continuing our terror theme. Only this terror? It involves darkness. And assassins. And possibly an urgent need for a bathroom. Write away. I will post my response below.

* * *

I cower in the darkness, breathing in the stale air trapped beneath my covers. It smells bad. And I'm talking really bad. Like, mountain-lion-who-hasn't-bathed-in-months bad. I swear I brushed my teeth.

Or did I? Perhaps all this, all the life I have been living for years, is just a dream. And the dream, the one that haunts me? It is reality.

I really don't want that to be true.

A floorboard creaks in the next room, and every muscle in my body is instantly tense. I close my eyes, trying to pray, but unable to wrench my focus from the violent death that probably awaits me. Do I get a last request? Because I would really like a trip to the bathroom right about now. Not that it really matters that I wet my bed, but I'd really prefer that the cops investigating my murder not have to deal with that mess. There will probably be blood and gore enough.

So I wait. And I wait and I wait and I wait, until, finally, I have to believe that nothing is going to happen. I am alive, and I am going to stay that way. And so, with a sigh of relief, I let the covers fall away from my face ... and stare straight into another one, right above my bed.

I scream. Loudly.

My little brother cracks up.

I sit straight up, clutching my pillow to my chest. "I ... You ..." I splutter.

"Got you!" he chortles. "You were scared, admit it."

That's it. This time, I am actually going to kill him. Or, you know, let Mom finish the job. I don't want my fingerprints on the body.

* * *

Oh drat. That just freaked me out even more. Well, it can't be too long until sunrise, can it? Can it?

*checks how long until sunrise*

For the record, I did not just swear.