Christian Speculative Fiction discussion

Let your creativity flow! That's the purpose for the WRITER'S CORNER! And to practice. Enjoy!

But it is also here to encourage and to have fun.


***IF YOU HAVEN'T COMPLETED CHALLENGE ONE & TWO, THOSE CHALLENGES REMAIN OPEN & READY FOR YOUR ATTEMPTS.***


Please note: This is not just for writers but for ANYONE who loves having fun with words. Please participate and see what happens.


Each weekend, I will post a NEW CHALLENGE. Over the next week, I hope to see entries. Please comment on entries posted; perhaps give advice and/or share your reaction with thoughts.


(This session should take you 5-15 minutes in total.)


WEEK THREE CHALLENGE: SEVEN OF NINE

RULES: Write a scene incorporating the following listed items into the scene. There are nine choices; please use seven of the nine.

You may continue a scene from previous challenges or do something brand new. This is a challenge, so it may make you think and plan, but it should be a lot of fun.

Best bet: Do the challenge BEFORE you read others' attempts. This way, what you share is original and your own flowing creativity.

Note: Write this as a first draft, so it's not so important if every aspect is perfect. You can always go back to edit it if you want.

THE ITEMS FOR YOUR SCENE:

A Scarecrow.
A Puzzle Missing One Piece.
A Cocker Spaniel.
A Corkscrew.
A Photo of a Family (a part of the picture torn away).
Crickets chirping.
A Tattered Bible.
A Ship in a Bottle.
A Basin of Clear, Warm Water.

Thank you, writers and creatives! Have fun!

-Sean

I must confess; I spent probably an hour on this one. It was fun and I wanted to do something more than a ten-minute short piece with it. Needing to use seven items and still come up with something that made sense pushed the boundaries. I hope the length is acceptable.

*****
Tears leaked from Sammy’s eyes as he ran through the partly harvested field of wheat. Clutching the old, tattered bible his grandmother had given him for his seventh birthday, he flung himself down under the shadow of the scarecrow to wait for his best friend Jake. By this time of the year the scarecrow’s clothing was faded and tattered, and the surrounding fields swarmed with crickets. They came up from the stream at the bottom of the hill in late summer like hordes of hungry locusts. Their steady chirping grated on Sammy’s already shattered nerves and he dreaded facing Aunt Bella’s outrage when the crunchy little creatures invaded the homestead.

Sammy sniffed and wiped his runny nose on the hem of his tee shirt. Flipping open Grannie’s old bible, he pulled out the yellowed family photo from when his great, great grandmother was a child. He ran a finger over the unsmiling little girl with the huge white bow in her hair before fingering the ragged edge of the photo where it had been torn at some point in the past.

“I’m missing something here,” he mumbled to himself. “It’s so frustrating, like a puzzle with one missing piece. Aunt Bella knows. Dad knows.”

“Your dad knows what?” Jake said as he flopped onto his stomach next to Sammy, his reddish-gold colored Cocker Spaniel, Ginger, dropping to sit by his side. “Hold on! Don’t tell me yet.”

Jake pushed up off the ground and ran down to the stream, returning a few minutes later with a basin of clear, warm water for Ginger. After placing the bowl on the ground, spilling half the contents in the process, Jake turned rapt attention on Sammy. “Okay, Mister-It’s-My-Family’s-Curse. Spill. You’ve brought that ratty, old picture here practically every day all summer, why? You talk about some puzzle you say explains why your mom disappeared, but you make no sense. If your dad knows, why don’t you just ask him?”

Sammy released a deep sigh as he watched Ginger get up, walk over to the basin, and lap the water. His thoughts turned to the torn portion of the picture, the ragged missing half that he had found in Aunt Bella’s room at the beginning of the summer. The part where his mom stood next to his great, great grandmother’s father, dressed in jeans and a plaid shirt, her eyes widened in shock, and her hand reaching out as if in warning.

It took me over an hour to write this, too. Yes, a lot of fun. But rewarding to express and spin a story using nine props.

Here you go. Hope you guys like it.

____________________________________________________

Several tall candles lit, the golden light bathed Hershel Thomson’s brown face and upper body. Wearing his red flannel, long-sleeve shirt, he sat hunched over on the top step of his porch. His cocker spaniel, Grace, named after the great actress Grace Kelly, lay sprawled out snoring beside him. He reached and stroked his old dog’s head. A big grin spread across his sunken cheeks, followed by a chuckle.

“A little lady shouldn’t snore, Grace,” he reprimanded, his teasing voice gentle.

Grace’s eyes opened halfway, and she cocked her head toward him as if analyzing him. Then, as rapid as she’d awakened, she fell back into the oblivion of her dreamy sleep.

The day had been a scorcher. Exhaustion permeated Hershel’s old bones, legs, and feet. But his mind fought off the tiredness as his searching eyes read from the large-print, tattered Bible open beside him. As he read aloud a verse, he stopped to reflect on the words. Then, he repeated slowly the words as if turning a diamond to examine its priceless facets. Often of late, he'd learned to pray the Scriptures back to God.

Tonight stood as an anniversary of sorts for him. Fifty years before, Life from above had poured into an empty, depraved young man. Hershel's heart teemed with gratefulness to his Heavenly Father.

Life, he’d discovered after many hard lessons, had taught him that until a person meets the Lord, their life will resemble a picture puzzle missing the one piece needed to make it all come together.
God was that missing piece. We were meant, Hershel had muttered to Grace the other day, to be ships sailing the high seas, not to be a ship imprisoned in a bottle for the devil's gleeful amusement!

He reached behind and grabbed his chilled, ten-year-old bottle of wine—along with his trusty corkscrew. He looked forward to breathing in the aroma once he got it open. But later. The night was young.

Turning the crinkly pages of his Bible, a black and white picture slipped out—the one of his family when he was just a small boy. The youngest of twelve children, Hershel, in the picture, kneeled; his five brothers and seven sisters surrounded him, and his momma sat somber-faced in an old chair. The far right portion of the picture, however, was torn away—his father dead to him. When his father wasn’t cheating on his momma, he was coming home taking what little money momma had and disappearing again for weeks at a time, using it to buy liquor and other vices. Countless nights Hershel had gone to bed with an empty stomach.

Hershel’s rage toward his father, whispered about by all the locals for many years, had known no cure. It fueled his life, eventually affecting all of his relationships, not just with his father. That is, until he’d discovered the cure for his hatred. This had come only after he'd discovered his helplessness versus the dark pool of sin within him. When Christ by His love and sacrifice had forgiven him, he'd never been the same, nor looked back.

While reading, Hershel ran his gnarled, long fingers down over his calves until they caressed his blistered, aching feet that soaked in a large basin of clear, warm water. Frogs and crickets chirped their choruses in the unlit land about, calming his mind, and freeing his soul from any and all earth’s troubles. A breeze carried the rumble of thunder, the crackling echoing across the sky. The dance of lightning teased a downpour. He hoped it’d come quickly and drain away the molasses-thick humidity.

Hershel looked out over his farmland which stretched into the distance, the silhouette of a weather-worn scarecrow overlooking the wind-blown crops.

He gave a big smile as the smattering of rain sounded against the roof of his porch. He looked up. “My Father is fond of me.”

C.S. wrote: "I must confess; I spent probably an hour on this one. It was fun and I wanted to do something more than a ten-minute short piece with it. Needing to use seven items and still come up with something..."

Chris!
I loved the mystery, the sense of setting, the hook of an ending, and the use of props! I wanted to read more.

Thank you!

-Sean

Sean wrote: "It took me over an hour to write this, too. Yes, a lot of fun. But rewarding to express and spin a story using nine props.

Here you go. Hope you guys like it.

____________________________________..."

Nice feel to this, very smooth, well detailed. Loved the lesson on forgiveness.

Hi,
Anyone else want to join in the fun for this third challenge? I will keep this challenge going till the end of this weekend--mostly because our group is busy reading for their 5th Review Session.

This is an open-ended group, so please add to this group.

-Sean

I will eventually come back with something. This challenge might break me but I want to try. I've been busy helping out a friend and tying up loose ends at school-age a special ed high school teacher, and have a bit of paperwork I need to finish before I can call it summer!

Ann wrote: "I will eventually come back with something. This challenge might break me but I want to try. I've been busy helping out a friend and tying up loose ends at school-age a special ed high school teach..."

Ann,
I am looking forward to reading what you write once you have the time.
Chris

Ann wrote: "I will eventually come back with something. This challenge might break me but I want to try. I've been busy helping out a friend and tying up loose ends at school-age a special ed high school teach..."

Yes, Ann! I know this was more of a challenge, but the most important thing is to have fun. And, once you start, the creative juices will flow.

What I've learned over the last few weeks through this group is that we can spin a scene or story with props and/or out-of-no-where scenarios. Imagine what that means for those who struggle with writer's block.

Ann and all other writers: have a go. Do your best. And see what you come up with. The possibilities is why it's so much fun!

-Sean

Hello,

Anyone else want to join in the fun for this third challenge?

This is open-ended group, so please add to it as you feel the desire!

-Sean