Just Write

How Bad Can it Be?

[brianamorganbooks]

quick writing tip

put the most important information at the end of the sentence! consider:

I confessed my love for him at the end of the semester.

not bad, right? but it could be so much better! try this instead:

At the end of the semester, I confessed my love for him.

oh, the drama! don’t you want to know more? try this in your current WIP—you’ll be surprised what a difference it makes!

[writeyourworst-blog]

Forgotten (HtPuC101)

Creative Writing Prompts #666 - “I’m going to pretend that didn’t happen and go back home now.”

Alys watched him from the corner of her eye, watching the jitter of his leg as he bounced out an aggravated staccato. Charlie had been acting a bit peculiar the past while, but she couldn’t figure out what he was up to. Throughout the night his antics had been fairly tame, all things considered.

She was reluctant to accept the reprieve. Not at face value, anyway.

The two had engaged in a rather companionable evening, discussing the ups and downs of their past week of classes. Midterms had come to an end, which meant a few more weeks before their hard-won freedom was finally earned.

The lot of them had been considering a Spring Break tip of some sort or another. A trip to the beach, splitting the cost of a cabin between the five of them. Her eyes flitted toward Charlie. Six, if he intended to come as well.

“I’ve been thinking,” the boy in question slumped against the wall that shielded them both from the piercing wind.

“A worrisome notion,” Alys quirked her lip as she settled against the wall beside him. Then in all seriousness, “what about?”

“I’ve wanted to do something. For a while.” He shuffled his weight from one leg to another.

“You’ve never been one to pull the punches.” She wondered what he was referring to. According to Ariana, he had been struggling with some serious choices in occupation as of recent. Perhaps this is what he spoke of.

“While you’re not wrong, I’m afraid it might be a bit too soon.” The wind appeared to be toying with Charlie’s hat. He reached up and adjusted it. Alys nodded.

“I don’t see any harm in approaching the topic early,” she supplied. Alys had not realized Charlie might be comfortable enough to share these concerns with her. Was rather please she could offer her assistance.

“Truly?” He murmured with a hint of surprise. She shrugged.

“Sure. If not, there’s always next time.” She turned to him, a cheery smile on her face - only to be caught completely dumbfounded as his lips crashed into hers. Her mind stuttered to a halt. Long enough for his arm to wrap around her own and his hand to dig into her hair. His lips, soft like velvet, moved against her own. A hint of something wet and-

She shoved him away, scarcely wincing as a few strands of hair went with him.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Her face as red as his shoes, she could scarcely believe his audacity. But then, this was Charlie. What was she to expect, exactly? Audacious, indeed, looking nearly as startled as she. He took a step toward her and she was quick to mirror in reverse.

“But you,” struggling against words as she struggled against the cold air that suddenly she found frightfully chilling, “you said...you said,”

“That you could kiss me?” Balling her fist into her scarf, twisting it she snapped, “Nothing of the sort.” Heart pumping and lungs a stifling concoction of icy fire she decided she was through. She turned and began to march down the street.

“Please, there’s been a misunderstanding.” Racing after he matched pace while sputtering uncharacteristically, “I had thought- it seemed you were-” His reply and his walk were both cut short as she froze. Spinning and pressing a finger to his chest she spoke quietly.

“No more.” Her eyes pierced his more aptly than the wind did his coat. A fire brimmed in her eyes, clashing against the tossing waves of their waterlike nature. “Not another word. I’m going to pretend that didn’t happen and go back home now. I’d thank you if you could kindly bugger off.”

He offered two whispered words, with a visage to match, “I’m sorry.”

“Then leave me be.”

[procrastiwriting-deactivated202]

My main problem as a writer is that I don’t write because “I have a story to tell”. I write because there are worlds I want to visit, ideas I want to explore, people I want to meet, conversations I want to hear, emotions that I want to express, and impossibilities I want to make real.

Which means that I still need a fucking plot.

[writeyourworst-blog]

Snow (HtPuC101)

Creative Writing Prompt #673 - Everything was covered in snow except for a perfect circle right in the middle of the yard.

Alys woke up to a strange thud. It was not a necessarily uncommon occurrence. Indeed, peculiar noises at odd hours were a symptom of living with three other college-aged roommates.

These noises, however, did not typically originate from the wall which overlooked the street. With a world-weary sigh and promises for some much-needed coffee immediately following her investigation Alys withdrew from her bed and to the nearest window.

Just shy of smacking her head against the fogged glass, she peered sleepily into their building’s mediocre attempt at a front yard. Her sleep was all but forgotten, however, as she took in the snow white visage before her.

Everything was covered in snow...except for a perfect circle right in the middle of the yard. Her brow rose in speculation, already running through her list of possible suspects when a ball of snow splattered across her window in a rather abrupt manner.

She jerked her head back and had to refrain from truly thunking her head against the glass on the rebound. Peering more carefully through the window now, she noticed a bundled figure standing just shy of the front porch, its awning partially obscuring the figure.

None other than Charlie. Of course.

Rolling her eyes as she shifts the lock on either side of the window and shoves it up, Alys leans out while propping her cheek on her hand.

“I was asleep, I’ll have you know.”

“It’s a good thing I’m here, then, isn’t it?” He grins, despite his rather evident shivering, “W-why would anyone want to w-waste such a brilliant day?”

Shaking her head she rightens quickly, muttering to herself about the ridiculous of certain someones. Carefully she shuts the window sill as Charlie calls back up to her, somewhat startled by her hasty retreat.

Giving herself a quick once over Alys straightens out her tank top before deeming her appearance amenable to male company. Tramping down the stairs she realized as her feet hit the hardwood she really could use a pair of socks.

Opening the door with a reprimanding look Alys steps aside and offers him entrance, “C’mon. Before you catch your death.” He grins, shuffling inside. She shuts the door behind him.

“’Preciate it, Ally.” He grabs his coat and shakes it out, sending little flurries of slush scattering around the front door. She whines as they bounce across herself as easily as they do the floor, shoving him toward the kitchen.

“What are you doing here, Charlie?” She inquires, although she’s become rather used to his wholesome remarks as of late. Not for his sister, oh no. Life would never prove so amiable.

“Why, to spend the first snowfall with my most dearest, of course!” He rings out, confirming her suspicions. She fails to understand his amusement with this game of his. Wonders when he might finally abandon his folly.

“Coffee.” She mutters. If this is what her morning has turned into, she’ll need the assistance.

In this, it seems, he can be made useful. He pulls out a seat at their battered kitchen table, urging her to sit, as he begins to putter around in preparation for her morning brew. He begins by chucking the old grounds, replacing the filter and adding her typical coffee bean. She hums her thanks when the scent of brewing coffee seeps throughout the small kitchenette.

“My pleasure.” His purr - and it is most certainly a purr - is enough to snag her attention. He catches her with his charming grin; the gentle tilt of a head, the seeming sparkle in his eye, the slight twist of lips.

She breaks away from the sight. It’s too early.

[writeyourworst-blog]

It’s Not Important (HtPuC101)

Alys scrolled through her phone, tapping away simple replies to all the well wishers. She scarcely noticed when the chair next to her squeaked under the pressure of its recent occupation.

“Hey, you never said it was your birthday!” Charlie cried a little too close for comfort. She looked up to see him peering over her shoulder, reading through the monotonous list of ‘Happy Birthday!’s. Alys clicked her phone off.

“It’s not important.”

“Are you kidding?” Incredulously Charlie watched as she tucked her phone into her purse, slinging it over her arm as she stood. She shrugged.

“Listen, I don’t have time to hang out today. Ari asked me to head into town and pick up a couple things. And I have an exam tomorrow I need to study for.” His lips thinned into a frown.

“Alright, I guess.” He stood with her, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Don’t want any company?” She hesitates, which surprises him.

“No,” she decides, “I’ll be fine, see you tomorrow.”

“See ya.” His eyes follow after her, trying to tease out a solution to the strange air surrounding her. Something’s off, but he has no idea what it is.

Pulling into the lot, Alys switches her car into park and closes her eyes as she leans back into her seat. It had been a long day, but at least it’s almost over. Retrieving her phone from her jacket pocket she clicks her way back online. Six new well wishers. She glances through the names.

Not who she’s looking for.

She tosses the metal and plastic into the passenger seat. “Don’t be stupid,” Alys berates herself, “it’s not important.” But frustration pulls in her throat. Against her better judgement she reaches for her phone again. Pulls up her mother’s page and scans it.

Harper was in the spelling bee today. She made to the third round before we forgot the i before e rule. Still, you did great today honey. So proud of you!

Harper. Right. Her hand tightens unconsciously around her phone, turning the point where her finger meets the screen a dark myriad of colors. She bites her lip as her eyes start to burn. Chucks her phone and hears bounce off the door and into the floor.

Alys shakes her head and takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“It’s not important,” she reminds herself. Reaches forward and grips the steering wheel with both hands hard enough to turn her fingers white. “It’s not important. Not fucking important. Get a grip already.” She takes another deep breath and lets her head thump against the top of the steering wheel.

She stays like that several minutes, until a tapping on her window startles her. Standing outside her door is literally the last person she wants to see right now. But he’s been doing a lot of that lately. She pulls her key from the ignition before grabbing the bag intended for Ariana. Opening the door she frowns up at the ratty haired boy.

“You know the car was unlocked, right?” She winces as her voice cracks and clears her throat as she turns to lock the car door. A warm hand plants itself on her shoulder and spins her back around.

“Babe, were you crying?” Charlie’s eyes are wide and full of concern. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” she denies immediately, trying to shrug off his shoulder and step toward the door. “It’s nothing.”

“Come on, Alys,” he catches her hand and gently pulls her back. “If it’s enough to get you like this,” he gestures to her current state, “it must be something.”

“It’s-” she deflates, “I’d rather not talk about it.” His frown goes deeper but he nods, pulling her closer and wrapping one around her shoulders and going after her tears with his free hand.

“Sure about that?” He looks at her, lifting his eyebrows suggestively, “if there’s somebody you want me to beat up, I’ll do it.” Alys snorts at the notion.

“You’d sooner get your ass kicked.” Charlie puffs up in mock indignation, as they both know it’s true. “Now, be a gentleman and take this bag,” Alys quips as she holds out the white plastic shopping bag, “it’s getting heavy.” He grabs the bag after taking his indignation as far it will go.

As Charlie led her up the stairs to her apartment, she realized he never did answer the question of his presence. Just as she was about to inquire again, he tossed open the front door (which she noticed was unlocked) and shuffled her inside.

The lights flicked on in a blinding flash and as she blinked hard against the onslaught a chorus of “Happy Birthday!” erupted.  Alys grinned as Charlie nudged her excitably.

“Wow,” she took in the apartment. Brittney stood by the kitchen, wearing her floral apron, Ariana and Mark looked as though they’d just sprung up from behind the sofa. Morgan had poised herself by the front door, providing the face full of confetti. Streamers, balloons, and glittering confetti was plastered all across the room.

“When did you guys find the time?” She looked at them all and they grinned in return.

“Ari and I skipped our last class to get back early,” Morgan confessed, “we realized we’d need more time so Ari sent you off to town for a while.”

“It looks amazing,” Alys laughed as she examined their handy work.

“Yeah, yeah, Airhead and Mo are brilliant. Next generation party mongers. But now it’s time for some cake!” Charlie exclaimed as he began to steer Alys through the furniture and decor.

Glancing at the clock and realizing she’d done no studying in the last three hours, Alys couldn’t object to the loss. Scrapping out her last bite of ice cream she surveyed what was left of the decorations. Halfway through Charlie and Mark had made a game of popping the balloons, earning points for scaring the rest of them. Alys had made it out more or less unscathed.

“So,” Charlie slipped into the empty seat beside her and propped his hand against an arm, which he in turn propped against the back of her chair, “all better now?” Alys considered the question.

She hadn’t wasted a second’s thought on her mother since stepping into the apartment. She’d been so caught off guard, and then content to play along with the suggestions of food and games. Alys smiled.

“Yeah, thanks, Charlie.”

“Anytime.” He watches her as she sets down her bowl.

“Something else?” she inquires when his stair starts to heat her face.

“Sure there’s no one you want me to beat up? Short maybe, or scrawny?” Alys snorts and rolls her eyes.

“They’d still kick your ass.”

[writeyourworst-blog]

Dishes (HtPuC101)

Alys leans over the sink, a thoughtful frown on her face as she goes through the motions of grab, clean, rinse, shake, stack, and repeat. It’s not what she’d like to be doing with her Saturday afternoon, but so it goes.

Brittney, Morgan, and Ariana were out for the evening - each wrapped up in their own to-do lists. Between academics and sports, Saturdays where typically when everything else was done.

She’s just begun spraying down a particularly large pan when a pair of hands grab her around the hips. With a startled shriek she whipped around, clamping her hand around the handle of the hose. Water went everywhere.

She sagged a little, realizing it was Charlie. Anger quickly followed, and she unleashed the hose again. “Hey!” The brunette held up his hands in futile attempts to ward off the water. “Come on, cut it out, now. Mercy. Mercy.”

She relented. “What the hell are you doing here? Ari’s out with Mark,” she said, “won’t be back until late, if she’s planning on coming back at all.” Charlie made a face.

“Okay, one. Not why I’m here. Two. Didn’t need to know that. Don’t want to know that. Or anything else concerning my baby sister and whatever sleaze sh-” Water smacked him in the face, and Alys’ glower had returned.

“Mark’s a nice guy,” she supplied, “just because you’ll sleep with anything in a skirt doesn’t mean all guys are like that. Give a guy a chance.” Charlie turned his nose up and to the side, muttering something quiet and decidedly impolite. She sprayed him again.

“Dammit, quit that!” Water dripped from nearly every inch of his frame, pooling haphazardly across the tiles. Rolling her eyes Alys turned around to finish off the pan and replace the sprayer.

“Bathroom, you’re dripping water all over the place.” She commanded as she preceded him in that direction, “and you never said why you were here.”

“You interrupted me,” he pouted, his tone better suited to having just seen someone kick a puppy. Alys began rooting around in the bathroom’s dinky closet, pulling out a giant towel and throwing it at him.

“You were being rude,” she pointed out, crossing her arms, “now answer the question. Or would you like a repeat performance?”

“Well, I came to see my best buddy,” his guilt trip began, “but it’s clear she has better things to do. Dishes and chores. Way more fun than hanging out with her best friend and going to catch a movie.”

“If I agree, while you stopped acting like a child?” Alys rolled her eyes and propped her hand on her hip. His eyes lit up.

“If you insist!” he grinned, “just remember it’s your turn to buy popcorn! But, uh...” Charlie’s gaze dropped down to their clothes. The two of them were soaked to the bone.

“Stay here a sec,” Alys said, “you left some of your stuff last time you came over. God only knows what you left in.” His laughter carried after her as she stepped into her room to grab the clothes she had shoved into a drawer a few weeks prior.

She returned to find him already half naked, rooting through the bathroom’s closet with his shirt on the ground.

“Oi,” she snapped, dropping his clothes onto the counter and turning to leave, “cut that out and get dressed.”

“Oh, this would look great on you!” With a sigh Alys turned back to see Charlie holding out a skimpy black polka-dotted bikini. He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. She smirked.

“That’s your sister’s, actually.” She watched with great amusement as a look of disgust crossed his face and he flung the swim suit back into the closet and slammed it shut. “I’ll be ready to go in 15,” she said before stepping into her room and closing the door with a soft click, chuckling as she did so.

[writersrandomramblings]

12 ½ writing rules.

[writeyourworst-blog]

How to Pick up Chicks 101 Pt. 2

“I’ve shown you every trick I know, Alys,” Charlie spoke grimly and she raised a brow, unimpressed.

“Am I supposed to be impressed?” She shifted onto her left leg, a scowl marring her face. “Congratulations.! You must know one hundred different ways to pick up girls. Are we done here?”

“No,” he spoke firmly and with a strange sort of conviction, stepping closer. Alys huffed in frustration.

“Let’s get this over with then,” she insisted, her discomfort evident in the shifting of her weight and crossing of her arms. “What do you want, Charlie?”

He smiled at that. Not his usual self-confident, haughty grin. Something quieter, almost vulnerable. If anyone were ever silly enough to describe Charlie as quiet, let alone vulnerable. He took another half step forward, and Alys found herself shifting her weight again.

“What I’ve wanted the whole time, Alys,” His voice slid over her name sinuously and he leaned forward, sweeping her bangs to the side as he so often did. A knot took up in her throat, leaving her speechless. “To prove I’m not playing games. Not with you.”

Before Alys could fully wrap her head around the words, he closed the distance between them. A hand wrapped around her, pressing against the flat of her back while the other curled into her hair. Hyper aware of his lips, slanted against her own.  Alys’ heart thundered as he pulled away, watching her through half lidded eyes.

She reared back and slapped him.

“Don’t you dare,” her eyes sought shelter among the grimy tiles of the floor as her eyes began to burn. Her body trembled uncontrollably; whether from fear or anger Alys couldn’t decipher. “Don’t you dare.”

[writeyourworst-blog]

How to Pick Up Chicks 101

The day had been perfectly mundane until she noticed him.

It was hard not to, though. One minute she’s standing in line, minding her own business, and the next thing she knows the guy ahead of her up and drops. With no rhyme or reason, he ends up sprawled across the floor and thumps against the chick standing in front of him.

It’s a quiet ordeal and few seem to notice, too wrapped up in their own little world. There’s a small gasp of surprise from the girl, however. She turns around and immediately crouches next to the boy and apologizes profusely for an incident Alys is quite certain has nothing to do with her.

Alys’ suspicions shift when she watched the guy, standing up with a slight stumble and laughing with a sheepish coloring of his tone.

“My fault,” he replies easily and holds out the hand which is not rubbing his injured shoulder (which Alys notices is not, in fact, the side he had landed on) and introduces himself, “Sorry, I trip over thin air sometimes. I got lucky, though,” he confesses lightly.

“How’s that?” Alys just barely makes out her voice over the chatter of the lunch room.

“I don’t normally have such a pretty girl helping me back up.” The girl laughs, blonde hair flicking back and he joins her. Alys grimaces. The two continue their spontaneous conversation and she can’t help but watch the train wreck as it unfolds. The guy is way too obvious, but the blonde seems entirely receptive to the debacle.

Can someone really be so gullible?

The blonde shifts her purse on her shoulder and out clatters a tube of lipstick onto the floor. Retrieving the tube, she doesn’t notice as he glances toward Alys. And winks.