Lately every story I read, (ironically in in the middle of Needful Things), I’ve been flipping the script and see what I get. It’s a fantastic exercise.
Maybe this will help. I spent the winter reading "cozies" which are twee mystery novels set in English or Irish or New England villages. A sub-genre of the cozies is all about food: ladies poisoning each other at bake sales, ladies running cafes and solving stabbings, all about food and often stuffed with recipes. Very 'Murder, She Wrote' books.
My goal was to mimic this twee, cutesy world of cozies and make it do something truly horrible. You might glance at a few cozies to see if you can't usurp the voice
With the exception of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time, I haven’t read a mystery since my Nancy Drew days as a kid! So I was looking for essays to crack the basic structure/rules. But I think I may just have to read more mysteries if I am ever going to write one.
I think I’m going to have to do the sour dough one. I posted a comment on it for a synopsis. But, like an idiot, I hadn’t realized that the point was to *write* a short story using the prompt. I kinda liked what I can up with it. So I might roll with it.
This is exactly what I'm dealing with now. I have a book called Driftwood on submission with agents. It's getting rejected before any request for a full MS. They like the writing but from the synopsis they consider it's not commercial enough to take on. I had the same response with How the Wired Weep. It was considered too gritty/urban for crime fiction and didn't have that "hook". I self-published it in the end because the story is good and I believe in it.
🤯Holy crud. How did I miss the apocalyptic ending in Baxter!?! All the dead birds. Totally missed this during my reading of it. I am so blind! Makes the ending of that story waaay cooler.
Makes me think of the Lullaby cover now. Also apocalyptic.
With the dogs howling and the strange light it seemed to suggest a nuclear annihilation or meteor or whatnot. It's better that Baxter cut before revealing the full nature of the "it's all of us" prediction.
Considering that digital news is now more popular than printed newspapers, a new telling of the story would maybe best be centered in the realm of the internet.
An army of mangler smart devices, all of which are possessed/powered by the hatred/disdain that wide reaching media outlets have circulated throughout the population.
The monster could be AI/a digital hive-mind, more paranormal based or a mix of the two.
Picture a gargantuan monster constructed out of smart devices and electronic parts-- all the different components that would makeup its body. Now imagine a multitude of them -- they’re everywhere. Maybe they meet and whenever they do they join up the construct an even bigger monstrosity.
(Yes. This idea is a mix of Skynet from ‘Terminator’ and the pink slime from ‘Ghostbusters 2’. Innovative and the most shit-your-pants terrifying concept you’ve ever encountered, I know.)
Smart homes, as I believe they’re called, are ripe for voyeuristic horror stories. Why people are so inclined to surround themselves with things that can see and hear them, I’ll never know.
Right? I’ve always had a home security system, but mine likes to sleep at my feet and needs constant attention. And food. And frisbees. Totally worth it, though.
Given the spiral of web-based information over the last few years, this might be too on the nose. But I would agree, it’s hard to place in 2022. Papers still exist, but aren’t widely viewed with the same importance as in the past. Maybe find a fun era and explore some of the unique details of the time period.
Love this prompt. Also, bummed to be missing the grand opening of the new study hall this evening but will be there in spirit. Looking forward to a return to form next week!
I think I might have a bad habit when I write. Or maybe not? I’m not sure and I’m hoping you could give some insight. Here’s the question: How do you balance writing in the moment without knowing what will happen next vs writing on a whim but writing the best (most fitting) thing to come next? In other words, how do you know that what you’re writing is the right direction for the story? What questions can be asked? Are there times you should really slow down and think about what you’re going to write next? Do you take a break to think it through or what? It seems challenging to be spontaneous but also purposeful in moving characters through the story and shaping it in the right direction. Sometimes I think I’m writing something that’s a great idea, then I second guess it later and hate it, then I come back to it again and like it again… I know this is all a part of ‘excavating’ the story, but what tools (rules) are used to make sure you’re not about to break something precious? I think at times I mistake spontaneity for good story telling.
I have a little cheat sheet I typed up based on some of the things you’ve said here. This has helped, but I feel like I’m missing some considerations per the above. Here it is:
What is the purpose of this detail or passage?
1. Is it meant to pass time? (Why?)
- Are we passing time to heighten tension?
- Is it a gesture to distract from tension?
2. Is it meant to build authority?
- Are we showing a character’s base of knowledge or experience?
- Is it meant to play a part in a character transformation?
3. Is it setting up a future event?
- Is this building a pattern for the reader to identify?
- Does it relate to a gun? (How the story will climax)
- Does it relate to a clock? (When the story will climax)
Yeah I’m not into long stuff either as I’m a very very slow reader! I go back and re-read passages before I move on. If I really like something, then I read it multiple times. Or sometimes I miss stuff and have to re-read. Either way, long books are rough for me. I read The Stand and loved it, but never again. For me as a writer, I don’t think I’ll have a problem with being to lengthy. What I run into is running with an idea and then finding out that the idea maybe wasn’t the best choice. And once I find that out, I’m too far along and it has a cascading effect on so much of the story after whatever ‘bad’ decision I made. I guess it’s one thing to go back and edit to fix little things and link together pieces, but it’s not fun to go back and correct the entire trajectory. I’m hoping I can avoid major navigation errors.
My favorites always end up being the shorts. Flannery Oconner, Capote, Chuck. Every time. Gulag archipelago is an exception but even that is just hundreds of short stories put together
Which is why I will browbeat you into writing a good short story like Mark Richard's 'Strays' before you tackle writing a novel. Or think of how well the short anecdotes in the story 'Wickedness' added up. Or the laundry-list of details that Amy Hempel strings together in her story 'The Harvest.' Each is short and satisfying, to the writer and the reader. If you're working full time, it's a smart way to write.
I’ve had At the Gates of the Animal Kingdom sitting on my desk (among many others) to be next read. Jumping into Harvest ASAP. It took me a while, idiotically, to understand what the writing prompts were. It wasn’t until the third post or so that I came around to getting that you didn’t want us to comment with some creative synopsis. (Like I did a few times. Ha.) Yeah I’m going to start taking breaks from the ‘novel(s)’ I’m working on and do some short stories. Probably based on some of your prompts. It’s so easy to think you’ve got something down when you don’t yet. My writing has a long way to go. Alright -- The Harvest here I come!
I experience a phenomenon which Stephen King called ‘falling through the page’ in the course of which I quite forget that I’m pressing portions of the touchscreen of a CPU & have begun simultaneously feeling what my characters feel—and desperately hoping that the most æsthetically enriching actions, feelings and thoughts will be captured for the ranks of my readers, my followers, and Posterity.
Oh, dear. Where to start? Carry your notebook. Collect the best details that come into your mind and life. Keyboard them and cut-and-paste until you find the best order for them. Look for holes that need filling with additional stuff.
Create a few short stories to perfect your voice for the project: The character's scam, the meet-cute, what your character does for work. Pile up the stories.
Tackle this in baby steps by doing it. Only once you've got a critical mass of stories (which are likely scenes or chapters) can you look at the larger mechanics of pace.
Ten-four. Thanks. I’ve been thinking a lot about what you had to say on my arrowhead story in response to a comment I made about the plot. You said not to talk the story to death. The more I thought about what you said, the more I realized that some parts I’d been writing based on an idea I had instead of feeling for the direction the story should go. I think you saved me a big headache with that feedback. I’m now removing anything that was writing toward a pre-established idea and am reworking it into things that are a better fit. Luckily it’s all very fixable. It’s going in a whole new direction. Thanks again.
This isn't a story from the prompt, but I spent 40 years in the newspaper business and had to relate this actual event. I was the publisher of a small-town newspaper (this was in the mid-90s). I had hired a young woman as the first female press operator at the company. I didn't run the press, but often I would stand in the pressroom to watch it run. Paula (the young lady) was reaching in to adjust some ink keys, while wearing big rubber gloves, of course. She reached in too far and the press rollers, going full speed, grabbed the tip of her fingers. I stood not three feet away, where I had a good view of her hand flying out the other side, still in the glove. Instinct kicked in, thank goodness or I might have just fainted dead away, and I hit the emergency stop button, grabbed her and led her to the industrial sink. She's holding her arm, cradling it against her chest, in absolute shock. I probably was too, a bit. I had to convince her to open up so I could see just what we were dealing with.
And there... solid black on an otherwise very white, fair complexion redhead, was a hand. Totally black. Smashed? Bruised all the way through? In the meantime, another press operator had grabbed her glove that landed several feet away. There was no hand in it as it was still attached to Paula's wrist.
We got her to put her hand under gently running cool water and most of the black washed right off. Ink.
I drove her to the ER (not waiting for an ambulance). She had fairly well smashed three fingertips. Lost a couple fingernails in the process.
She hadn't been able to find the gloves she always wore. The ones that fit her. So she'd grabbed one of the guy's spare set, gloves that were way too big for her. The rollers had grabbed the empty fingertips of the glove and thwopped it right off her hand. Very fortunate for her, although if she'd been wearing the right gloves, her fingertips probably wouldn't have come close enough to the rollers to get nabbed.
But I'll never in my life get the image out of my head: her hand flying out the other side of the machine right in front of me.
My dad was a printer, just retired last year. He owned a small printing press, Japanese built from the early 50s. I always felt like it had an odd haunted quality to it, maybe something to do with the time and place that it came from.
Anyway when he closed down his shop, I helped him disassemble the press and carry it, piece by piece to the curb. A local guy who collects scrap metal came by within less than an hour. I'll never forget how heavy that roller-head assembly was (probably 300 pounds).
The newspaper I work for used to have their giant presses in a building a block away, which was turned into a building for the Masons later after the presses were removed. I was given a tour where the presses used to be—- we went all the way into the basement where I saw very heavy wooden supports that were still holding up the floor where the presses used to sit. 2 men had died from getting caught in the presses not long before they were dismantled. New hirers. Very eerie feeling in that basement along with a the offshot view of a small room with a beaten down greyish navy blue pinstriped mattress. A woman’s long brown wig was thrown off to the side as well. At that point, I started heading towards the steps quickly as my tour guide started to give me some serious creeps.
Just retelling that made the hair stand on my arms! Eeeeek.
Alright, I commented with my selfish and long-winded question earlier. Now I’ll contribute a story that relates.
I went to college in a town that was small enough that you’d always run into someone you know at the bar and big enough to always meet someone new. One of my friends was Mike. Mike was big. Mike could dunk a ball barely even jumping. And we’re not talking skinny. Mike was full of muscle and Mike always attracted fights. He never started fights. People just always wanted to fight him. And he’d be blasted drunk at that point usually. He was tough and tempered. I saw him put a cigar out on his shoulder once when he was pissed off. Then two days later he’s talking about what a moron he was and how much the wound now hurt. Things like that happened all the time with him. Smashing liquor bottles on walls and slicing his hands open. Stuff like that. Kinda fun to watch.
Anyway, he starts working at this dog food factory. It’s actually the same factory that had a major salmonella outbreak that year, which killed a bunch of dogs and got them sued into the ground. Mike liked to stay relaxed and he was known to take quite a lot of pain killers. One day he comes into the bar with his entire arm wrapped up from fingers to shoulder. When I asked him what happened he went on the explain that he’d been working on the conveyor line when he passed out and got his arm caught in the belt. Apparently they had to shut the line down because it turned into a blood buffet. When he unwrapped the bandages it was the nastiest wound I think I’ve ever seen. From hand to upper arm his skin was completely stripped off. Unfortunately for Mike, his post-accident urine specimen tested non-negative for opioids and he lost his job and paid a hefty hospital bill. But hey, he got to feed dogs human blood nationwide.
Lately every story I read, (ironically in in the middle of Needful Things), I’ve been flipping the script and see what I get. It’s a fantastic exercise.
I’m frankly still with the uranium imbued granite prompt. I really like that. So many directions to take.
I am still working the sour dough one while I work on the others each week. Mysteries are something I don't have much experience with.
Me either! I’ve been researching trying to figure out where to start!
I have been doing the same. Lots of bread history lectures. So many cool bread facts.
Maybe this will help. I spent the winter reading "cozies" which are twee mystery novels set in English or Irish or New England villages. A sub-genre of the cozies is all about food: ladies poisoning each other at bake sales, ladies running cafes and solving stabbings, all about food and often stuffed with recipes. Very 'Murder, She Wrote' books.
My goal was to mimic this twee, cutesy world of cozies and make it do something truly horrible. You might glance at a few cozies to see if you can't usurp the voice
With the exception of The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time, I haven’t read a mystery since my Nancy Drew days as a kid! So I was looking for essays to crack the basic structure/rules. But I think I may just have to read more mysteries if I am ever going to write one.
Thank you for the suggestion! I will look into some cozies!
Bear in mind, each writing prompt is meant to demonstrate a concept. There's no need to stick to the prompt.
I get it. But the uranium one is definitely the one I’m submitting to you when it’s done.
I think I’m going to have to do the sour dough one. I posted a comment on it for a synopsis. But, like an idiot, I hadn’t realized that the point was to *write* a short story using the prompt. I kinda liked what I can up with it. So I might roll with it.
This is exactly what I'm dealing with now. I have a book called Driftwood on submission with agents. It's getting rejected before any request for a full MS. They like the writing but from the synopsis they consider it's not commercial enough to take on. I had the same response with How the Wired Weep. It was considered too gritty/urban for crime fiction and didn't have that "hook". I self-published it in the end because the story is good and I believe in it.
🤯Holy crud. How did I miss the apocalyptic ending in Baxter!?! All the dead birds. Totally missed this during my reading of it. I am so blind! Makes the ending of that story waaay cooler.
Makes me think of the Lullaby cover now. Also apocalyptic.
With the dogs howling and the strange light it seemed to suggest a nuclear annihilation or meteor or whatnot. It's better that Baxter cut before revealing the full nature of the "it's all of us" prediction.
You’re not blind! I thought it was left to the imagination.
I’m all over this…
Are we encouraged to share our feeble efforts?
Do.
Copy that. Much obliged
I'd call it Bleed All About It.
THAT is good. And the old rule "If it bleeds it leads" fits perfect.
Considering that digital news is now more popular than printed newspapers, a new telling of the story would maybe best be centered in the realm of the internet.
An army of mangler smart devices, all of which are possessed/powered by the hatred/disdain that wide reaching media outlets have circulated throughout the population.
The monster could be AI/a digital hive-mind, more paranormal based or a mix of the two.
Picture a gargantuan monster constructed out of smart devices and electronic parts-- all the different components that would makeup its body. Now imagine a multitude of them -- they’re everywhere. Maybe they meet and whenever they do they join up the construct an even bigger monstrosity.
(Yes. This idea is a mix of Skynet from ‘Terminator’ and the pink slime from ‘Ghostbusters 2’. Innovative and the most shit-your-pants terrifying concept you’ve ever encountered, I know.)
Smart homes, as I believe they’re called, are ripe for voyeuristic horror stories. Why people are so inclined to surround themselves with things that can see and hear them, I’ll never know.
Right? I’ve always had a home security system, but mine likes to sleep at my feet and needs constant attention. And food. And frisbees. Totally worth it, though.
There’s a similar version of this on Netflix right now called, “Archive 81.” Pretty good story! Anyone else see it?
But do you see how the Bradbury story greases the skids for yours? People love that story and would love to see it updated.
Given the spiral of web-based information over the last few years, this might be too on the nose. But I would agree, it’s hard to place in 2022. Papers still exist, but aren’t widely viewed with the same importance as in the past. Maybe find a fun era and explore some of the unique details of the time period.
Love this prompt. Also, bummed to be missing the grand opening of the new study hall this evening but will be there in spirit. Looking forward to a return to form next week!
You will be spooked, not having 10,000 Peletons overhead.
This also reminds me of The Machinist.
I’ll be surprised if his son Joe Hill (the superior writer of the two) doesn’t write something similarly stellar soon.
Thanks for the Like!
*Raises Hand*
I think I might have a bad habit when I write. Or maybe not? I’m not sure and I’m hoping you could give some insight. Here’s the question: How do you balance writing in the moment without knowing what will happen next vs writing on a whim but writing the best (most fitting) thing to come next? In other words, how do you know that what you’re writing is the right direction for the story? What questions can be asked? Are there times you should really slow down and think about what you’re going to write next? Do you take a break to think it through or what? It seems challenging to be spontaneous but also purposeful in moving characters through the story and shaping it in the right direction. Sometimes I think I’m writing something that’s a great idea, then I second guess it later and hate it, then I come back to it again and like it again… I know this is all a part of ‘excavating’ the story, but what tools (rules) are used to make sure you’re not about to break something precious? I think at times I mistake spontaneity for good story telling.
I have a little cheat sheet I typed up based on some of the things you’ve said here. This has helped, but I feel like I’m missing some considerations per the above. Here it is:
What is the purpose of this detail or passage?
1. Is it meant to pass time? (Why?)
- Are we passing time to heighten tension?
- Is it a gesture to distract from tension?
2. Is it meant to build authority?
- Are we showing a character’s base of knowledge or experience?
- Is it meant to play a part in a character transformation?
3. Is it setting up a future event?
- Is this building a pattern for the reader to identify?
- Does it relate to a gun? (How the story will climax)
- Does it relate to a clock? (When the story will climax)
Yeah I’m not into long stuff either as I’m a very very slow reader! I go back and re-read passages before I move on. If I really like something, then I read it multiple times. Or sometimes I miss stuff and have to re-read. Either way, long books are rough for me. I read The Stand and loved it, but never again. For me as a writer, I don’t think I’ll have a problem with being to lengthy. What I run into is running with an idea and then finding out that the idea maybe wasn’t the best choice. And once I find that out, I’m too far along and it has a cascading effect on so much of the story after whatever ‘bad’ decision I made. I guess it’s one thing to go back and edit to fix little things and link together pieces, but it’s not fun to go back and correct the entire trajectory. I’m hoping I can avoid major navigation errors.
My favorites always end up being the shorts. Flannery Oconner, Capote, Chuck. Every time. Gulag archipelago is an exception but even that is just hundreds of short stories put together
Which is why I will browbeat you into writing a good short story like Mark Richard's 'Strays' before you tackle writing a novel. Or think of how well the short anecdotes in the story 'Wickedness' added up. Or the laundry-list of details that Amy Hempel strings together in her story 'The Harvest.' Each is short and satisfying, to the writer and the reader. If you're working full time, it's a smart way to write.
I’ve had At the Gates of the Animal Kingdom sitting on my desk (among many others) to be next read. Jumping into Harvest ASAP. It took me a while, idiotically, to understand what the writing prompts were. It wasn’t until the third post or so that I came around to getting that you didn’t want us to comment with some creative synopsis. (Like I did a few times. Ha.) Yeah I’m going to start taking breaks from the ‘novel(s)’ I’m working on and do some short stories. Probably based on some of your prompts. It’s so easy to think you’ve got something down when you don’t yet. My writing has a long way to go. Alright -- The Harvest here I come!
I experience a phenomenon which Stephen King called ‘falling through the page’ in the course of which I quite forget that I’m pressing portions of the touchscreen of a CPU & have begun simultaneously feeling what my characters feel—and desperately hoping that the most æsthetically enriching actions, feelings and thoughts will be captured for the ranks of my readers, my followers, and Posterity.
Oh, dear. Where to start? Carry your notebook. Collect the best details that come into your mind and life. Keyboard them and cut-and-paste until you find the best order for them. Look for holes that need filling with additional stuff.
Create a few short stories to perfect your voice for the project: The character's scam, the meet-cute, what your character does for work. Pile up the stories.
Tackle this in baby steps by doing it. Only once you've got a critical mass of stories (which are likely scenes or chapters) can you look at the larger mechanics of pace.
Ten-four. Thanks. I’ve been thinking a lot about what you had to say on my arrowhead story in response to a comment I made about the plot. You said not to talk the story to death. The more I thought about what you said, the more I realized that some parts I’d been writing based on an idea I had instead of feeling for the direction the story should go. I think you saved me a big headache with that feedback. I’m now removing anything that was writing toward a pre-established idea and am reworking it into things that are a better fit. Luckily it’s all very fixable. It’s going in a whole new direction. Thanks again.
This isn't a story from the prompt, but I spent 40 years in the newspaper business and had to relate this actual event. I was the publisher of a small-town newspaper (this was in the mid-90s). I had hired a young woman as the first female press operator at the company. I didn't run the press, but often I would stand in the pressroom to watch it run. Paula (the young lady) was reaching in to adjust some ink keys, while wearing big rubber gloves, of course. She reached in too far and the press rollers, going full speed, grabbed the tip of her fingers. I stood not three feet away, where I had a good view of her hand flying out the other side, still in the glove. Instinct kicked in, thank goodness or I might have just fainted dead away, and I hit the emergency stop button, grabbed her and led her to the industrial sink. She's holding her arm, cradling it against her chest, in absolute shock. I probably was too, a bit. I had to convince her to open up so I could see just what we were dealing with.
And there... solid black on an otherwise very white, fair complexion redhead, was a hand. Totally black. Smashed? Bruised all the way through? In the meantime, another press operator had grabbed her glove that landed several feet away. There was no hand in it as it was still attached to Paula's wrist.
We got her to put her hand under gently running cool water and most of the black washed right off. Ink.
I drove her to the ER (not waiting for an ambulance). She had fairly well smashed three fingertips. Lost a couple fingernails in the process.
She hadn't been able to find the gloves she always wore. The ones that fit her. So she'd grabbed one of the guy's spare set, gloves that were way too big for her. The rollers had grabbed the empty fingertips of the glove and thwopped it right off her hand. Very fortunate for her, although if she'd been wearing the right gloves, her fingertips probably wouldn't have come close enough to the rollers to get nabbed.
But I'll never in my life get the image out of my head: her hand flying out the other side of the machine right in front of me.
Whew!!!
Wow this story had me cringing. What a relief I felt when I realized her hand was still attached. Seriously you had me thinking it was a goner.
The lyrics from Marilyn Manson's This is the New Shit comes to mind after reading this.
I chuckled when I read “neg runner” because I imagined you jogging past, telling me I look fat in these pants.
I was eighteen. I ran everywhere. Now I'm fat.
Since when? I wish I could’ve made it to the opening tonight, but I was there in spirit - eastern standard time. Happy typing!
My dad was a printer, just retired last year. He owned a small printing press, Japanese built from the early 50s. I always felt like it had an odd haunted quality to it, maybe something to do with the time and place that it came from.
Anyway when he closed down his shop, I helped him disassemble the press and carry it, piece by piece to the curb. A local guy who collects scrap metal came by within less than an hour. I'll never forget how heavy that roller-head assembly was (probably 300 pounds).
The newspaper I work for used to have their giant presses in a building a block away, which was turned into a building for the Masons later after the presses were removed. I was given a tour where the presses used to be—- we went all the way into the basement where I saw very heavy wooden supports that were still holding up the floor where the presses used to sit. 2 men had died from getting caught in the presses not long before they were dismantled. New hirers. Very eerie feeling in that basement along with a the offshot view of a small room with a beaten down greyish navy blue pinstriped mattress. A woman’s long brown wig was thrown off to the side as well. At that point, I started heading towards the steps quickly as my tour guide started to give me some serious creeps.
Just retelling that made the hair stand on my arms! Eeeeek.
Makes you wonder if the building shakes from time to time.
Alright, I commented with my selfish and long-winded question earlier. Now I’ll contribute a story that relates.
I went to college in a town that was small enough that you’d always run into someone you know at the bar and big enough to always meet someone new. One of my friends was Mike. Mike was big. Mike could dunk a ball barely even jumping. And we’re not talking skinny. Mike was full of muscle and Mike always attracted fights. He never started fights. People just always wanted to fight him. And he’d be blasted drunk at that point usually. He was tough and tempered. I saw him put a cigar out on his shoulder once when he was pissed off. Then two days later he’s talking about what a moron he was and how much the wound now hurt. Things like that happened all the time with him. Smashing liquor bottles on walls and slicing his hands open. Stuff like that. Kinda fun to watch.
Anyway, he starts working at this dog food factory. It’s actually the same factory that had a major salmonella outbreak that year, which killed a bunch of dogs and got them sued into the ground. Mike liked to stay relaxed and he was known to take quite a lot of pain killers. One day he comes into the bar with his entire arm wrapped up from fingers to shoulder. When I asked him what happened he went on the explain that he’d been working on the conveyor line when he passed out and got his arm caught in the belt. Apparently they had to shut the line down because it turned into a blood buffet. When he unwrapped the bandages it was the nastiest wound I think I’ve ever seen. From hand to upper arm his skin was completely stripped off. Unfortunately for Mike, his post-accident urine specimen tested non-negative for opioids and he lost his job and paid a hefty hospital bill. But hey, he got to feed dogs human blood nationwide.