Hey, Readerland. Day 4 is here and I am ready to get started.
So, no writing group today, as two of our four members were unable to make it. Kind of a bummer, but I still have lots to work on before January 1st. I'll probably end up sending it to the publisher as early as possible, but I also want to make the story as good as I can before submission. That's one of those balance things that I'm not really good at.
Anyway, enough of the jibber jabber and onto the challenge. To refresh your memory, today's topic is:
14. Capture the moment of redemption for a truly terrible villain. Why and how does it come?
Okay, so this one might be a bit tougher than the ones I've done before, so it might end up taking more than the 15 minutes. Or, if it's working well, I might keep going after the 15 minutes is over. Hard to tell. Time to hit it.
"Stop, McCarthy! I won't warn you again!" Bronski's hand hovered near his gun.
McCarthy couldn't stop laughing. "Detective Bronski! So nice to see you again!" He doubled over, the bloody carving knife dangling from his hand.
"McCarthy, we know it was you! Drop the knife! Do it now!" Bronski's hand was on his gun grip and he prayed he didn't need to draw the gun.
"Of course it was me, Detective! Who else would it be?" McCarthy asked. "I was the only link between the eleven of them! I knew you would catch me. Not you specifically, of course, but the police. Not that I haven't had a ton of fun with you, Detective!" He fell into another laughing fit.
Bronski moved a few steps closer. He was within a dozen yards. He wasn't young enough or fast enough anymore to cover that distance before McCarthy used that knife on him. "Talk to me, McCarthy. Why the women? The children? You targeted the men. Eleven men. Why?"
"You will call me Eric, Detective, if we're going to continue this conversation." McCarthy slid down into a crouch against the wall behind him.
"Okay, fine." Bronski said. "Eric. I'm Chuck. You can call me Chuck. You want to tell me why you went after those men?"
"The women and children," McCarthy said. "they were just collateral damage, I guess. No, not collateral damage. They were damage inflicted on those sons of bitches! Every single one of them got what he deserved!"
"And what was that?" Bronski asked.
"They deserved to die! After everything they did to me! Everything that they ever did to me! They deserved nothing less than death! But you know what they got?" McCarthy asked pushing himself to his feet.
"What?"
"They got suffering as well as death! I made them suffer!" McCarthy seemed almost lost, visions of his crimes dancing behind his eyes.
"Stabbing someone seventeen times is suffering, I'd say." Bronski said.
McCarthy laughed. "No. Not the stabbing. Each of those guys had a blow to the head, right?"
Bronski nodded.
"Because I hit them with a hammer and knocked them out. Who wouldn't be happy to see an old friend from high school, right? Once their back was turned, boom!" McCarthy pantomimed swinging a hammer. "And then I tied them to chairs. Entire family, each in a chair. Then the fun began."
"Fun?" Bronski asked.
"I made them watch as I tormented their wives. They were helpless to do anything. They begged. They pleaded. But none of it was enough!" McCarthy laughed again, but this time there was tension behind it. "They had to watch as I killed their wives in front of them in turn before turning my knife, this knife," McCarthy said, pointing the knife at Bronski. "on them. Each stab was a revelation! An epiphany!"
Bronski took another couple of steps forward. "And what did you learn from this epiphany?"
"That I was getting closer to freedom!" McCarthy said with a smile. "With them dead and gone, I would be free of everything that they had done to me!"
"What did the do?" Bronski asked.
"I was always the quiet kid in school, right? The one that got pushed around. Shoved into lockers, that kind of thing. Kids stuff. Until one day after school, I'm leaving school when Kevin stops me." McCarthy looked up at the ceiling, tears forming in his eyes.
"Kevin Bates?" Bronski asked.
"Yeah, him. He stops me and asks if I can help him with a problem he has. Stupid me, I assumed he meant homework." McCarthy rubbed his nose. "No, I follow him into the locker room and there they are. All eleven of them. They beat me pretty badly, took my clothes and duct taped me to the goal post, knowing that there was a pep rally the next morning."
Bronski stopped moving and looked at McCarthy.
"I was humiliated!' McCarthy yelled. "In front of the whole school, I was naked and bruised from the beating! And do you know what happened? Everyone laughed. No one helped me down until the faculty arrived! Not a single God damned person in that stadium helped me!"
"Kevin, I'm sorry." Bronski said.
"Don't be sorry, Chuck." McCarthy said. "Be happy! They're all gone and now I'm free for the first time since I was seventeen! Free from the humiliation!"
"But what about the families, Eric? They didn't have anything to do with what happened." Bronski moved closer again.
"Wrong!" McCarthy yelled. "All of those bitches were cheerleaders! Nobody ever moves out of this stupid town! They all marry their high school sweethearts and contribute the inbreeding in this damn dump! Every single one of them got what they deserved!"
Bronski shook his head. "No, Eric. Those children didn't deserve to die. You killed innocent children for revenge. I have to take you in, Eric. Put the knife down and get down on your knees, hands behind your head."
"No...I..." McCarthy started. "I didn't...The children..." He slowly sank to his knees, the knife clattering to the concrete floor.
"Yes, the children, Eric. Think about what you did to them." Bronksi hurried over and pulled McCarthy's hands behind his back, putting the handcuffs on."
"Chuck?" McCarthy asked.
"Yes, Eric?"
"The kids are okay. Roughed up a little bit, but they're okay." McCarthy sounded like a weight had been lifted. "They're at my mama's farm out side of town on Route Eight. They're in the cellar underneath the barn. I haven't hurt them, Chuck. I mean, no more than I had to, just to get them in the cellar."
"Eric, you've hurt them more than you know," Bronski said, walking McCarthy to the police car.
"I just wanted them to be free, Chuck. They deserved freedom, too. Right?" McCarthy didn't sound entirely sure.
Okay, so I'm not sure that counts as 'a moment of redemption' but I like the way it worked out. And it tied into the first story I wrote. I think this took me about 25 minutes total.
Anyway, that's Day 4. I hope you're enjoying everything so far. Remember, you can always join in by leaving your content as a comment or if you have your own blog/webpage/slice of internet awesome, you can leave a link for that as a comment, too. I'm not here to judge, I'm just here to post.
So, what's in store for Day 5? I'm glad you asked. My lovely assistant has drawn:
#25 Write about the worst mistake a character has ever made -- the kind of mistake that resonates
throughout that character's life. The kind where the snake can never be put back into the can.
Now re-write it like that mistake is the best thing that ever happened to the character.
Yikes. Looks like a toughie. No slacking, though. No days off.
That's all for now. Thanks for playing along and I'll see you all tomorrow. Until then, take care and be awesome to each other.
#WWWYKI
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Saturday, December 3, 2011
The Ogre's Den: The Ogre/Chuck Challenge, Day 3
The Ogre's Den: The Ogre/Chuck Challenge, Day 3: Hey, Readerland. Back for Day 3 of the Ogre/Chuck Challenge. In case you've forgotten what today's assignment is, here you go: For Day 3...
The Ogre's Den: The Ogre/Chuck Challenge, Day 3
The Ogre's Den: The Ogre/Chuck Challenge, Day 3: Hey, Readerland. Back for Day 3 of the Ogre/Chuck Challenge. In case you've forgotten what today's assignment is, here you go: For Day 3...
The Ogre/Chuck Challenge, Day 3
Hey, Readerland. Back for Day 3 of the Ogre/Chuck Challenge. In case you've forgotten what today's assignment is, here you go:
For Day 3, the exercise is:
19: Invent a memory from your childhood, then write it.
So, here goes nothing.
When we were little, my best friend Mike and I were doing something stupid that kids, specifically boys, always did. We were walking on the frozen creek down the hill from my mom's house. 'Don't walk on the creek,' she'd say. 'You'll fall in and get hypothermia and drown!' But did we listen? Nope.
So, Mike and I are walking along on the creek, talking about baseball, since we were both on the same little league team. We stopped talking when we heard cracking of the ice. We stopped moving. It wasn't coming from under us, though. It was a little ways away, where the creek turned south, by the oak tree that was hit by lightning.
Carefully (which could be one of the few times those words applied to us), we make our way over to the cracking sound. Mike got down on his knees and brushed the snow off of the ice. It was hard to see through, but we could definitely see something big under the ice. I got a couple of rocks and we started hitting the ice, trying to break it. Yeah, we were geniuses. So, we managed to break a hole in the ice about the size of a car tire, but whatever we saw was gone.
The cracking sound came from a little further downstream, so we followed it, sliding across the ice instead of walking. We stopped again at the cracking noise and started pounding the ice again.
I'm not sure what happened, but we didn't hit the ice that hard and it started to break under us. I was quicker and scrambled backwards, but Mike wasn't so lucky.
He fell in as the ice gave way and flailed in the icy water. I grabbed his hand and tried to pull him out, but I couldn't move him.
"I think something's got a hold of me!" he yelled. "Pull harder!"
I pulled and got him a couple of inches out of the ice before something pulled him back. I had nothing to brace my feet against, so I stayed on my knees, pulling as hard as I could. After several excruciating minutes, he finally came free. We both lay on the ice, Mike wet and shivering and missing one of his shoes. He wasn't bleeding, so I figured he was going to be okay.
I got him on his feet and walked him back to my mom's house, so he could get a warm shower and we could call Mike's mom to let her know what happened. Both of our moms were furious that we had been walking on the creek. 'See? What did I tell you?'
Nobody ever believed us that I had that much trouble pulling him out and they didn't listen to Mike's claims that something under water had grabbed his foot. 'It was probably a branch' or 'Your shoe just got stuck in the mud' was what they said.
Except that the creek was about fifteen deep in that spot, so unless Mike grew underwater, he couldn't have gotten his shoe stuck at the bottom. It might have been a branch, I suppose, but why didn't we see one or why didn't it come up when I finally pulled him free?
As we went to school, the following Monday, we decided not to tell anybody about what we thought happened: that there was something in the creek that tried to pull him away. People had already heard the story, so it was no big deal to play it off as 'Mike lost his shoe in the creek.'
Even though we didn't entirely believe in a 'creek monster' or anything, Mike always had a fear about that spot from that point on. I can't say I blame him. I was always hesitant to go back there. I was always afraid that we'd find his shoe sitting there on the shore with claw marks or something on it.
Okay, there you have it. Day 3, in the books. Now, I have to admit that this particular memory is based on something that actually did happen, but did not involve struggles with sea monsters.
So, Day 3 is done. But what about Day 4? Thanks for asking! My lovely assistant has drawn tomorrow's number and it is:
14. Capture the moment of redemption for a truly terrible villain. Why and how does it come?
Well. I'm not sure how I'll do that in 15 minutes, but I'm sure something will work it's way onto the screen. My friend Mary has joined me on this quest and she's posted both of her entries so far on her Facebook page:
Day 1
Day 2
If you're enjoying what I'm doing with this and you want to join in, feel free. You can post your content in a comment, post it on your own blog/Facebook page/whatever and send me the link either as a comment here or email it to me at SkredlitheOgre@gmail.com.
I have my writer's group meeting tomorrow, so hopefully things will go well with that. I'm sure I'll have something to report for it.
So, I will see you tomorrow for Day 4 of the Ogre/Chuck Challenge! Thanks for sticking with me! Only 28 more days to go! Until next time, take care, and be awesome to each other.
#WWWYKI
For Day 3, the exercise is:
19: Invent a memory from your childhood, then write it.
So, here goes nothing.
When we were little, my best friend Mike and I were doing something stupid that kids, specifically boys, always did. We were walking on the frozen creek down the hill from my mom's house. 'Don't walk on the creek,' she'd say. 'You'll fall in and get hypothermia and drown!' But did we listen? Nope.
So, Mike and I are walking along on the creek, talking about baseball, since we were both on the same little league team. We stopped talking when we heard cracking of the ice. We stopped moving. It wasn't coming from under us, though. It was a little ways away, where the creek turned south, by the oak tree that was hit by lightning.
Carefully (which could be one of the few times those words applied to us), we make our way over to the cracking sound. Mike got down on his knees and brushed the snow off of the ice. It was hard to see through, but we could definitely see something big under the ice. I got a couple of rocks and we started hitting the ice, trying to break it. Yeah, we were geniuses. So, we managed to break a hole in the ice about the size of a car tire, but whatever we saw was gone.
The cracking sound came from a little further downstream, so we followed it, sliding across the ice instead of walking. We stopped again at the cracking noise and started pounding the ice again.
I'm not sure what happened, but we didn't hit the ice that hard and it started to break under us. I was quicker and scrambled backwards, but Mike wasn't so lucky.
He fell in as the ice gave way and flailed in the icy water. I grabbed his hand and tried to pull him out, but I couldn't move him.
"I think something's got a hold of me!" he yelled. "Pull harder!"
I pulled and got him a couple of inches out of the ice before something pulled him back. I had nothing to brace my feet against, so I stayed on my knees, pulling as hard as I could. After several excruciating minutes, he finally came free. We both lay on the ice, Mike wet and shivering and missing one of his shoes. He wasn't bleeding, so I figured he was going to be okay.
I got him on his feet and walked him back to my mom's house, so he could get a warm shower and we could call Mike's mom to let her know what happened. Both of our moms were furious that we had been walking on the creek. 'See? What did I tell you?'
Nobody ever believed us that I had that much trouble pulling him out and they didn't listen to Mike's claims that something under water had grabbed his foot. 'It was probably a branch' or 'Your shoe just got stuck in the mud' was what they said.
Except that the creek was about fifteen deep in that spot, so unless Mike grew underwater, he couldn't have gotten his shoe stuck at the bottom. It might have been a branch, I suppose, but why didn't we see one or why didn't it come up when I finally pulled him free?
As we went to school, the following Monday, we decided not to tell anybody about what we thought happened: that there was something in the creek that tried to pull him away. People had already heard the story, so it was no big deal to play it off as 'Mike lost his shoe in the creek.'
Even though we didn't entirely believe in a 'creek monster' or anything, Mike always had a fear about that spot from that point on. I can't say I blame him. I was always hesitant to go back there. I was always afraid that we'd find his shoe sitting there on the shore with claw marks or something on it.
Okay, there you have it. Day 3, in the books. Now, I have to admit that this particular memory is based on something that actually did happen, but did not involve struggles with sea monsters.
So, Day 3 is done. But what about Day 4? Thanks for asking! My lovely assistant has drawn tomorrow's number and it is:
14. Capture the moment of redemption for a truly terrible villain. Why and how does it come?
Well. I'm not sure how I'll do that in 15 minutes, but I'm sure something will work it's way onto the screen. My friend Mary has joined me on this quest and she's posted both of her entries so far on her Facebook page:
Day 1
Day 2
If you're enjoying what I'm doing with this and you want to join in, feel free. You can post your content in a comment, post it on your own blog/Facebook page/whatever and send me the link either as a comment here or email it to me at SkredlitheOgre@gmail.com.
I have my writer's group meeting tomorrow, so hopefully things will go well with that. I'm sure I'll have something to report for it.
So, I will see you tomorrow for Day 4 of the Ogre/Chuck Challenge! Thanks for sticking with me! Only 28 more days to go! Until next time, take care, and be awesome to each other.
#WWWYKI
Friday, December 2, 2011
The Ogre's Den: The Ogre/Chuck Challenge, Day 2
The Ogre's Den: The Ogre/Chuck Challenge, Day 2: Hey, Readerland. Back and determined to make it through this thing, even though it's only Day 2. So, in case you've forgotten, here's the...
The Ogre/Chuck Challenge, Day 2
Hey, Readerland. Back and determined to make it through this thing, even though it's only Day 2.
So, in case you've forgotten, here's the assignment for Day 2:
15. Describe the freedom of being pantsless. Preferably written sans pants. For authenticity's sake C'mon.
Honestly, I'm not really sure what the point of this is or how this is even going to work, but I'm going to give it my best shot. Here goes:
So, okay. Pants are off. Sitting here in boxers, two pairs of socks, an A-shirt, a thermal Henley (I guess that's what they're called), and a warm hat. Honestly, it's really cold. My weather widget says that it's 30 degrees outside and even though I'm in the warmest room in the apartment, I'm still cold.
I guess I can agree that not wearing pants can be kind of freeing, I suppose. Not weighing as much is good. And honestly, having exposed skin in kind of nice after being cold all day. Let's the skin breath, I guess. I'm not going to keep this up past the 15 minutes, though. But if I wanted to, I could run around the apartment and be as free as I liked, without weird looks from people. Well, other than people that live here.
Being pantsless could be a problem if I wanted to go outside, though. 30 degrees (at best) wearing no pants? Yeah, that's not going to happen.
Being sans pants does bring up the question as to why we, as a society, think we need to cover up certain body parts. Granted, it's freezing here, so I'll be covering up to stay warm, but for other people (and their body parts), why do we need to cover up?
One theory is that we retained shame from Adam and Eve when they discovered they were naked in the Garden of Eden. Others think they should cover up because 'Good lord, who would want to see me naked/half-naked/one-quarter naked, but with tight pants.' I think a lot has to do with body images that society has thrown down on us and what society considers 'attractive.' (Hint: I don't follow society's ideals, usually)
Wow. I just started going off on a serious tangent, which I wasn't expecting to do. I figured I would have fun with this, even if I didn't understand it.
I suppose if I wanted real freedom, I could go completely au natural, but nobody wants that image in their head, so I'll leave it alone.
One benefit of pantlessness for people who are dating, assuming they judge others on...ahem...certain body parts is that you'd be able to 'window shop' before taking home a potential mate. But if we were going to do that, we'd just make 'Naked Bars' or something and you'd get to see the whole package (he he...I said 'package') so you could see what would...um...fit best for you.
Holidays would be awkward, though.
The downside to being without pantalones would be that you wouldn't have anywhere to hold your stuff, like keys, wallet or cell phone. I guess we could all start carrying purses, backpacks/messenger bags or *gaps* fanny packs. Fanny packs on your actual fanny. Hm. That holds no appeal whatsoever. But putting it 'round front' would be cheating, as no one could check out the 'merchandise,' if you weel. (Yes, I'm a big fan of 'The American Dream' Dusty Rhodes.)
I would suggest some sort of over the shoulder back, at least for men. Personally, I like messenger bags and I have been known to carry a pair of cold-weather pants in mine, if I have to change after being outside or going outside after being inside. I carry a lot of stuff in mine, though.
If you'll excuse me, my time's up and I'm going to put my pants back on.
Okay, there you have it. 15 minutes on pantlessness while wearing no pants. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I'm also not sure that was it.
So, Day 2 of the Ogre/Chuck Challenge all done, but what awaits for Day 3? I'm glad you asked! FOr Day 3, the exercise is:
19: Invent a memory from your childhood, then write it.
Interesting challenge. I hope you're up for it!
That's it for Day 2. Hopefully we'll get some more responses going soon. Thanks for reading, everybody. Until next time, be awesome to each other. Woo woo woo! You know it.
So, in case you've forgotten, here's the assignment for Day 2:
15. Describe the freedom of being pantsless. Preferably written sans pants. For authenticity's sake C'mon.
Honestly, I'm not really sure what the point of this is or how this is even going to work, but I'm going to give it my best shot. Here goes:
So, okay. Pants are off. Sitting here in boxers, two pairs of socks, an A-shirt, a thermal Henley (I guess that's what they're called), and a warm hat. Honestly, it's really cold. My weather widget says that it's 30 degrees outside and even though I'm in the warmest room in the apartment, I'm still cold.
I guess I can agree that not wearing pants can be kind of freeing, I suppose. Not weighing as much is good. And honestly, having exposed skin in kind of nice after being cold all day. Let's the skin breath, I guess. I'm not going to keep this up past the 15 minutes, though. But if I wanted to, I could run around the apartment and be as free as I liked, without weird looks from people. Well, other than people that live here.
Being pantsless could be a problem if I wanted to go outside, though. 30 degrees (at best) wearing no pants? Yeah, that's not going to happen.
Being sans pants does bring up the question as to why we, as a society, think we need to cover up certain body parts. Granted, it's freezing here, so I'll be covering up to stay warm, but for other people (and their body parts), why do we need to cover up?
One theory is that we retained shame from Adam and Eve when they discovered they were naked in the Garden of Eden. Others think they should cover up because 'Good lord, who would want to see me naked/half-naked/one-quarter naked, but with tight pants.' I think a lot has to do with body images that society has thrown down on us and what society considers 'attractive.' (Hint: I don't follow society's ideals, usually)
Wow. I just started going off on a serious tangent, which I wasn't expecting to do. I figured I would have fun with this, even if I didn't understand it.
I suppose if I wanted real freedom, I could go completely au natural, but nobody wants that image in their head, so I'll leave it alone.
One benefit of pantlessness for people who are dating, assuming they judge others on...ahem...certain body parts is that you'd be able to 'window shop' before taking home a potential mate. But if we were going to do that, we'd just make 'Naked Bars' or something and you'd get to see the whole package (he he...I said 'package') so you could see what would...um...fit best for you.
Holidays would be awkward, though.
The downside to being without pantalones would be that you wouldn't have anywhere to hold your stuff, like keys, wallet or cell phone. I guess we could all start carrying purses, backpacks/messenger bags or *gaps* fanny packs. Fanny packs on your actual fanny. Hm. That holds no appeal whatsoever. But putting it 'round front' would be cheating, as no one could check out the 'merchandise,' if you weel. (Yes, I'm a big fan of 'The American Dream' Dusty Rhodes.)
I would suggest some sort of over the shoulder back, at least for men. Personally, I like messenger bags and I have been known to carry a pair of cold-weather pants in mine, if I have to change after being outside or going outside after being inside. I carry a lot of stuff in mine, though.
If you'll excuse me, my time's up and I'm going to put my pants back on.
Okay, there you have it. 15 minutes on pantlessness while wearing no pants. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I'm also not sure that was it.
So, Day 2 of the Ogre/Chuck Challenge all done, but what awaits for Day 3? I'm glad you asked! FOr Day 3, the exercise is:
19: Invent a memory from your childhood, then write it.
Interesting challenge. I hope you're up for it!
That's it for Day 2. Hopefully we'll get some more responses going soon. Thanks for reading, everybody. Until next time, be awesome to each other. Woo woo woo! You know it.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
The Ogre/Chuck Challenge, Day 1
Hey, Readerland. The Ogre is back for Day 1 of the Ogre/Chuck Challenge! Ready to join me?
So, like I said yesterday, today's writing topic is:
#16: Find a random picture on Flickr. Then write about it. The Flickr random image generator is here: Flickr Random Image Generator
Here's my picture: http://www.flickr.com/photos/71065299@N05/6439092721/
So, 15 minutes of writing. Here goes:
So, like I said yesterday, today's writing topic is:
#16: Find a random picture on Flickr. Then write about it. The Flickr random image generator is here: Flickr Random Image Generator
Here's my picture: http://www.flickr.com/photos/71065299@N05/6439092721/
So, 15 minutes of writing. Here goes:
The two police officers crouched over the body of the victim. He was naked and had been stabbed numerous times. Nothing out of the ordinary, except the words written on his face.
when the truth is revealed, we will finally know.
"We'll know what, Chuck?" Sgt. Paulsen asked.
“I don’t know, Pauley.” Detective Chuck Bronski replied. “But look at the way the words are written on his face. And the triangle. It’s slightly colored in.”
“Sounds like whoever it was had all the time in the world,” Paulsen said.
“Looks like. The killer took the time to stab the victim…how many times was it?” Bronski asked.
“Seventeen. Or so says the examiner.” Paulsen consulted his notebook. “Seventeen times, most to the torso, a couple to the lower abdomen. ME says cause of death was being stabbed in the heart.”
“Oof,” Bronski said. “Not a good way to go. Let’s get Crime Scene in here and make sure they pay special attention to the words on the guy’s face.”
“Will do, Chuck.” Paulsen said.
---
Paulsen walked up to Bronksi’s desk and dropped a file on it.
“Scene just got back to me,” Paulsen said. “Looks like the writing was done in white wax pencil and whoever wrote it was left-handed according to handwriting analysis.”
“So, we’re looking for a left-handed person with access to white wax pencils who had a grudge against our dead guy.” Bronski leaned back in his chair. “That should be pretty easy, right?”
“Not as easy as you think.” Paulsen said. “Seems like white wax pencils are becoming more popular with teachers in high end schools. The schools that have those wall sized glass panes that you can write on. They’ll take dry erase markers or white wax pencils.”
“How many of these schools are there in the metro area?” Bronksi asked.
“Three,” Paulsen said. “But before you go looking for an answer there, our dead man, Scott Thornson, had no connection to any teacher, school administrator or employee that we can find. Same with employees of the largest manufacturer of those pencils in the state. We have absolutely nothing tying him to anybody who had the intention of doing him hard, Chuck.”
“What did Thornson do for a living,” Bronski asked.
“He was a party planner,” Paulsen answered. “Taught kids to swim at the Y on weekends. He was an active member of his church, too.”
“Pauley, I have a headache already.” Bronski said. “Do you have any good news to give me?”
Paulsen looked at his notebook. “Well, so far nobody else has shown up dead with writing on their face. Does that count?”
Bronski laughed. “I guess it’ll have to do, Pauley.
Paulsen got up and started to walk away. “Don’t worry, Chuck. We’ll find something. We always do.”
“I hope so, Pauley.” Bronski replied, thinking of all the cases he hadn’t been able to solve.
So, there you have it. 15 minutes worth of writing on a picture. I took an extra couple of minutes to reformat the text, since Word and Blogger don't always agree. Hopefully we'll have some good responses.
Oh, and before I forget. Thanks to my lovely assistant for picking tomorrow's exercise:
15. Describe the freedom of being pantsless. Preferably written sans pants. For authenticity's sake.
C'mon.
C'mon.
Okay, I have no idea what Chuck Wendig has against pants, but there you go. Hopefully it'll be above freezing tomorrow. If not, it's going to be a long fifteen minutes.
Okay, that's today's exercise and I'll see you again tomorrow for Day 2! Until next time, be awesome to each other.
#WWWYKI
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