What does your prompt say to you? Oh, perhaps not physically, although you do you, and please write about it for the rest of us. No, good prompt is vexing sometimes, because it generates new ideas when you haven’t written the old one yet, thank you very much. A prompt goes beyond mere words and leaps into genre, style, setting, and emotion. Dare I say it, a prompt can even generate plot, and worldbuilding.
So let’s play! Email an idea to odd prompts @ gmail dot com, and add spare if you don’t want a trade.
Doctor | Prescription | Patient |
Fiona Grey | “Six months does not equate to twenty years,” she explained patiently. | AC Young |
AC Young | The tome claimed that with this spell the caster would be able to reanimate ashes. | Becky Jones |
Becky Jones | The cat ignored all the safety warnings. | Fiona Grey |
Leigh Kimmel | We stood on the shore of the lake and watched the water lap onto the sand. | Padre |
Padre | “They brought the babies by for a visit.” | nother Mike |
nother Mike | The butterfly wings waved gently outside the window | Leigh Kimmel |
And if you’re not into any of those, forgot what day of the week it was again, or prefer not to swap directly this week, here are your spares.
Spare | “Head on a swivel” wasn’t meant to be taken literally |
Spare | The guitar was filled with daisies. |
Spare | The new security measures seemed a little excessive. |
Spare | I took the path less traveled |
Spare | There were lumps in the oatmeal that morning |
Whether you’re inclined toward dry humor, twisted tropes, or exploring fantastic new worlds, post your stories in the comments!
Header image by Fiona Grey
Mom! That cat with the sunglasses is looking at me!
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Oh, wow. I guess it was an advertisement, with tumblr across the bottom? Anyway, there was a cat wearing sunglasses… except it wasn’t there after I posted my comment… really, it was there!
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😀 I believe you! Thought maybe that’s what your prompt was somehow saying to you.
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“If I had known that busker would sit by us I’d have demanded that we eat indoors.” Maron gestured with his wine-glass. “He has not hit the right note five times yet.”
“Consider it part of the atmosphere of a modern city and ignore him. He’ll go away if nobody drops anything in his guitar case. And, to be fair, we use a different musical scale.”
“The way he plays blasphemes Euterpe,” Maron snapped. “You didn’t summon her, but I can take revenge on her behalf.”
“Be kind, be kind,” Samay urged. “The powers are no longer the same, and you must tread lightly. Have you tasted anything like these pastries before?”
“Not even the finest honeycakes were like these,” Maron agreed. “They are worthy of the tenth, Mageirema.”
Samay set down his fork. “A tenth?”
“There are twelve of them, not nine. And I cannot abide that clumsy crow any longer.” Maron rolled up his sleeves. “I shall set his instrument on fire and make him eat it.”
“Let us not draw attention to ourselves. There is much to learn and enjoy yet, and others would quickly send you back. Think of the beauty, please.”
Maron sat back in the sidewalk chair. “True, I want to stay a while.” He grinned. “Nevertheless..” He waved his left hand delicately in the direction of the player.
The chord was muffled and the playing stopped. The guitar was filled with daisies.
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Oho! The dangers of busking around magicians and other powers! Nice!
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This week Fiona Grey prescribed: “Six months does not equate to twenty years,” she explained patiently.
The following short scene could be on any number of future planets.
—
“How long does it take the Giant Dolphin to give birth?” asked Mrs Heather.
Most of the class yelled out “Six months.”
That was what she expected, since that was the gestation period for that particular sea mammal.
But Diana yelled “Twenty years, Miss.”
It would be Diana who had to play the fool, wouldn’t it? Mrs Heather made her way through the classroom until she was standing in front of Diana’s desk.
“Six months does not equate to twenty years,” she explained patiently.
“But Miss, the textbook clearly says that Giant Dolphins do not give birth until their twentieth year.”
“That wasn’t the question I was asking, Diana. You can’t just answer whatever question you want, you have to answer the question that is being asked.”
Mrs Heather turned back around and headed to the front of the classroom, shaking her head as she went.
The rest of the lesson went much as she expected, and she released the pupils to head to their next class.
She watched them walk away with some regret. Diana would do so much better if she applied her brains properly, rather than trying to find the most wrong answers she could find a way to justify,
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Y’a know, I think Mrs. Heather may need to learn to check her questions, ‘cause Diana actually did answer the question, or at least one way of interpreting the question. Who made the mistake here? Hum… thought provoking!
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I did look at tightening up the original question in final edits, but I couldn’t find a wording that made the intended answer clearer which didn’t also invalidate Diana’s clever twist.
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That’s okay, we can use it as a training parable for young teachers!
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[…] going on here and I’ve let the writing slack. Not gonna do that any more. This week’s More Odds Than Ends prompt came from AC Young: The tome claimed that with this spell the caster would be able to […]
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Hey, you asked for dancing ashes, you got dancing ashes! Now, what’s this mission you need help with? You have to admit, dancing ashes could make a great distraction!
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Padre prescribed…
“They brought the babies by for a visit.”
[oh, my. Baby what’s? How many babies? And who are they visiting? All these questions…]
Dr. Heston grinned when he glanced into the waiting room, and saw that the Broomsteins had come in. They brought the babies by for a visit, which meant most of his patients had run as soon as they could. Still, watching the little T-Rex stretch, and the dilophosaurus spreading those ears, well, it was bound to make a vet think he’d done a good job, pairing those eggs with the gene-cloned babies with those folks.
[okay, short, but… fun!]
Hendrickson grimaced, and tried sticking his fingers in his ears. It didn’t quite cover the cacophony. He shook his head, and looked at his secretary.
“Is it Tuesday already?” He yelled so she could hear him.
She nodded. She had her hands over her ears, too.
You see, Hendrickson directed the city symphony, and Tuesdays were when the children visited.
And today, the grand pianos had put their pedals down. They brought the babies by for a visit. And when the baby grands all started to play together, it was noisy!
[okay, silly, but… did you chuckle?]
[too hot to do more, so… here you go!]
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And now mine is up on my LiveJournal at https://starshipcat.livejournal.com/1373523.html. Not as well developed as I’d wanted, but I’ve been busy with day-job stuff, and this is a piece out of a work several books ahead of where I’m currently working, so I don’t know how it’ll actually fit into the book I’ll write when I get there.
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Ouch! The children’s efforts, left hanging in the breeze, as they got bundled up and taken who knows where? Well done!
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Ahh! I’m a day off! New MOTE post coming soon. New prompt post sometime later today, hopefully.
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