Wattpad Workshop Series

@AliceKuipers Thank you! I've been trying to work on my writing, and you're the first person to commend it in a long time. It means a lot!

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This is my try. It's not the best out there (I'm not sure it's even decent), but I had a lot of fun writing it! :)

“Hello there, Addie.” “Hi!” I smile at the nice lady in front of me. I make sure I show all of my teeth. “What’s your name?”

“You don’t remember me? Well, I’m your Aunt Donna. How old are you now, Addie?” “I’m seven and a half!” I chirp. This lady has the strangest tastes. There’s a bird about to swallow her head and she looks like she’s wearing pink crocodiles. And there’s a giant mole behind her. She doesn’t seem to mind.

“So I heard that you were in an accident recently.” She looks a bit sad. I notice the giant mole is about to eat her. I have to think of something to stop it, quick!

“Yes, but my big sister saved me. She’s a real-life superhero!” I tell her and the mole. I said that so he’d back off, because my big sister is going to kick his butt. The mole was still there, but I know it’s not going to eat Aunt Donna anymore.

“Oh, so your sister is your hero?”

“No, silly, not just a hero, a superhero! She can fly, she has super strength and she can shoot laser beams from her eyes! I’m her faithful sidekick.” I puff my chest out proudly, and then I become a puffin.

Aunt Donna looks worried. I panic. Maybe she doesn’t like puffins?

I crouch down and I become a frog. When I look up at Aunt Donna she’s a giant flamingo, and the giant mole was even bigger.

I hop away in fear. Everyone knows that flamingoes eat frogs. I hop hop hop up a spiraling staircase and it turns into a path in the woods, and there are tall trees with faces on either side of me.

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I grow more and more scared, and I want to go home to mother but big sister says that we can’t do that anymore. She says we have to be strong, so I do that every time I pass a bloodthirsty vampire or an angry lion.

Sometimes it’s too scary. Like when I’m in front of a big white man and he asks how my brain is doing. And I tell him that my brain is too small to be doing anything, since I’m a frog. He wants to shine a light into my eyes but I jump off that metal table he put me on and out of his dungeon. He chases after me, and even though he’s big and old, he’s as fast as a cheetah. Then I look back at him and he’s turned into a real cheetah.

I try to escape him, but there are too many legs and tentacles blocking my way. So I try to turn back human, but I can’t. I could only turn into a snake, but more people could step on me that way.

So I just keep hop hop hopping, because what else is there for a scared little frog to do?

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@AndyHoldcroft I like the strength of the voice here which gives a solidity to a dreamy and lyrical piece of writing. The voice has a quiet authority and they way the narrator uses words like veracity makes us want to trust him even as the glimpses of electric shock therapy help us understand he is hindered (I'm assuming he's a he!) With an interior monologue using more imagery and metaphor would give readers an even stronger sense of how this character views the world - what is it about how he sees the world that either proves or disproves his madness? I love the opening short sentences.

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@BlazeAloft Thanks - I hope the comments are helpful and that you write in next week when I post the second class and prompt! I'll give as much feedback as I can on the work I see here.

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@Rose_Hill This is very dark and very powerful. From this line near the very beginning - sticking to me like the midday sun during July - I'm taken in by the character and the story. You've done an excellent job of creating a full narrative with very few words. The use of questions shows the character's turmoil - very appropriate considering what she's going through.

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@alissende Good - I'm glad you enjoyed it. I'm writing the next post today and it'll be up on Monday (when I'm on the beach in Cuba!)

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@natyhatt This is a really interesting way to work on this exercise (I love how different everyone's pieces are!). The section here: 'Just a few minutes I gave myself to admire, then I unwrapped it carefully and broke the first chunk. I started eating it slowly, tasting it, loving it. Soon I was eating a second, a third, and a forth piece of that treasure I had.' gives the reader a great feeling of anticipation and tenderness as the character enjoys peeling open the egg. The magical high of the chocolate is nicely tied into creativity and its importance. I'm definitely curious about the story the character ended up writing and it felt to me that with more words you would have been able to give us a lot more story - you did a great job with the 500 words you were allowed.

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@KatrinaBusa Your imagination is brilliant - populated by animals and bizarre creatures. This piece starts out whimsical and light and then takes a darker turn - would describing the man (who I assume is some sort of doctor) with even more detailed words (you use big and white) give us as readers a better idea of him? Your use of dialogue is an excellent way to get the narrative moving forward and to give us a good sense of character. Good work!

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@AliceKuipers Thank you so much! I think it's really kind to be doing this workshop, helping out fellow writers!

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It's fun for me! I've just finished a book so it's a good time for me to be able to do this. I wish I'd had a writer workshop I could have done when I was finding my voice ;-)

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@AliceKuipers Thank you so, so much! That's the best critique I've ever received, so it means a lot. :D It was a bit difficult, trying to fit myself into the shoes of a character whose imagination is going wild, but it was a lot of fun and a great learning experience. And to think this is still the first week! It's really nice of you to lend a hand to all of us here, it's really a great help. ^^

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Ha Thank you Alice! I must say I was enjoying reading the others & thought "this looks fun: have a shot". Your time in reading & feeding back is appreciated. @AliceKuipers

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Here is my attempt:

The clock is ticking in the corner. I look at it, try to feel something for the sound it makes. I can remember vaguely a sensation I used to feel when I heard it, the way it used to stir things inside me, things I can now no longer recall.

I sit up and shake my head, turning to stare out the window instead. The rain is pelting down against the window, showering the grass and sidewalk in waves. The sky is grey. The clouds heavy, hovering just above the trees. An optical illusion, I tell myself, as I watch the rain fall.

The feeling of familiarity remains. Rain used to create a similar reaction to the ticking of the clock. But there is no stirring inside, no rush of emotions. Instead, it is simply pretty.

The drops of rain thud against the roof, the percussive sound joining with the clock. Occasionally, the crack of thunder adds its bellow and I sit, listening as I stare out the window.

James should have been home by now. He said he's be home from the gym by four o'clock. His workouts had grown longer and more frequent since I'd come home from hospital, one of the many, almost imperceptible changes in our relationship since the accident.

I would catch him watching me with a strange look in his eye, one I didn't recognize. I know I'd changed. He'd told me so. And there were the feelings of longing, of loss for something I couldn't identify.

I realized it was possible that he was no longer at the gym, that he'd never gone there to begin with. I knew there must be a reason why he wasn't home when he said he'd be. But I couldn't for the life of me think of what it could be. So, I sit and wait, wondering why I feel so empty inside.

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Thank you @AliceKuipers for your comment on my work! Yes, I felt I needed more than 500 words but I did it as short as I could. hehe You know, it happened to myself. I once ate a lot of chocolate and wrote... 5 chapters in a row! that was... wow. hehe But no, I can't give myself the pleasure of eating chocolate every time I need inspiration. Glad you liked my piece!

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This is the first time I've tried one of these writing prompts.... I'm not quite sure how mine will turn out but I'm glad to participate and hope I can get some great feedback and constructive criticism! :)

Part 1

Most people would say that getting hit by a car is a bad thing. In most cases, I would highly agree. But in my case, something strange happened. Something that would change my life; possibly forever.

Alone and completely stressed, I strolled down the sidewalk of Main Street, hoping to find some source of inspiration, something to put me on the path of success. I hoped today would finally be the day I discovered my passion, but as always, I was wrong. I had actually accomplished the exact opposite i had wanted my outcome of today to be, and it wasn't even lunch time.

I played a part in the whole thing. I honestly admit it. I wasn't paying attention, completely forgot my elementary lessons on "How to Cross the Street", and quite frankly didn't care what happened to me anymore. I was useless in my eyes; and the eyes of my foster parents.

It all happened so quickly. There was a screech, and then a slam, and then I was soaring through the air. As if hurtling twenty feet from your current position wasn't enough, my head smacked onto the sidewalk, and I was out cold.

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Part 2

The doctors told me it was a miracle i survived. They also told me that something had happened. That my brain had been injured and slightly inflamed when I was first brought in. Then they told me I might experience problems - changes in my behavior, or how I responded to certain things. I, of course, didn't want to here it. My life sucked as it is, and now it was about to get worse.

The night I returned from the hospital, I sat at my desk and stared at a blank piece of sketch paper. Just stared at it. It seemed to hold so much potential. So many possibilities could emerge from just this single white sheet. My imagination blazed like a bright consuming fire. Without thinking, my hand reached for a box of multi-colored pens. It grabbed one and started dancing, simply dancing across the sheet. An explosion of colors erupted from my hands. My once unworthy, no good, highly unimaginative hands - they suddenly transformed. A line there, and a blob of ink there, it wasn’t just a simple old scribble. It was true beauty I beheld before me.

I was no longer nothing. I had a passion. One that was unlocked by the car accident. The doctors had it all wrong - this wasn't a burden. This was a blessing. My life had dearly changed forever, I had finally found my true calling, and all because of that distracted driver. I had finally unblocked my imagination in my art. found my true calling, and all because of that distracted driver. I had finally unblocked my imagination in my art.

***I just want to say I had a good time creating this little idea - even if it was just a short story. Thanks for the opportunity and I hope to get some really good experience and constructive criticism out of this! And sorry if I exceeded 500... I tried my best to get it close :)

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Life had never been anything but routine for Lindsey, but that night changed everything.

One January night Lindsey stormed out of the restaurant she worked at muttering to herself about her boss, Andrew. With a sigh she cut through the back alley-as she always did-and longed for the warmth of her bed. Glancing at her phone she saw with dismay that it was already 10:30. Oh God, I still have all that homework, she thought.

Why did her mom make her get a job? Why did her mom let her work so late? Lindsey grimaced at the dirty slush piled up in the alley. If her mother wasn’t so insistent on Lindsey becoming ‘responsible’, Lindsey would be in bed taking a nap or watching the newest episode of Gossip Girl.

“Have you found her yet?” a gruff voice grunted.

Lindsey froze; no one ever took this alley. She’d been taking it every day since she started working three months ago. The alley was prone to a rancid smell and very large rats.

“No,” a new voice answered, “but I know her. She should be here any second.”

Lindsey bit her lip. The smart side of her brain was telling her to run but the other side wanted her to linger just a little longer.

“What’s her name again?” Gruffy asked.

“Lindsey,” the soft one answered and a chill ran up her spine, “Lindsey Wilks.”

Every bone in her body longed to escape and sprint to the safety of her bed, but Lindsey couldn’t make herself move. Holding her breath and plugging her nose, she snuck behind a dumpster and listened to the men’s conversation.

“Is SHE sure that this one is it?” Gruffy asked.

“Yes of course SHE is,” the soft one said, “and like I said I know her. She is most definitely the one.”

As Lindsey shivered and steadily turned an unattractive shade of purple, she couldn’t help but think that the soft one sounded familiar.

“She still ain’t here and I’m cold,” Gruffy complained.

“She’s coming!” the soft one said.

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Unable to hold it any longer Lindsey gasped for breath but kept plugging her nose. “Did you hear that?”

“It was nothing.”

“You sure you’re up for this, kid?”

“Of course,” snapped the soft one, “why wouldn’t I be?”

“Well there’s been some mutterings that you know, you were in love with her.”

“Don’t be stupid,” he snapped and like that the pieces fell into place.

Lindsey couldn’t hold it back; she gasped. That was a fatal mistake for footsteps came running her way. At that moment her instincts took over and she sprinted out of the alley. Footsteps like thunder followed her.

Heart hammering in her chest Lindsey pushed herself harder than she did at a track meet. The baby blue of her house was right there. Just a little bit more to go and she’d be safe. Just a few more- “Gotcha!” Gruffy exclaimed.

Lindsey elbowed him in the stomach and he keeled over releasing her from his grip. Before Lindsey could run off the other one grabbed onto her. Her stomach churned. “You know you can’t run faster than me, after all you’re only SECOND fastest,” whispered that all too familiar voice.

Blinking away the tears stinging at the corner of her eyes Lindsey strained against his iron grip. It was funny, she had once felt safe in his arms. She fought against him, kicked, elbowed, and even tried screaming before Gruffy covered her mouth with a gloved hand. If they hadn’t been wearing masks, Lindsey would have seen his face.

But she didn’t want to. She didn’t ever want to see his face again. Because she finally understood it all. Despite the routine of her life, something had been wrong the past couple of weeks. He’d even helped her figure it out and now he was betraying her.

He, Nick, her boyfriend.

That was my attempt. BTW the CAPS is italics

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I sat in the cold room, staring around the small space with anxiety imprinted in my mind. I felt the eyes of the psychiatrist watching my every move with an intensity that had me wishing for an escape. Reality was beyond reach for me now, I was far from it. My vision blurred, and I stared blankly at the white wall. I had a vague sense of what was happening around me, but all I could focus on were the hypnotising bright shapes that moved along the wall. I was too detached from my bodily senses to comprehend whether I was mesmerised or fearful of the shapes that seemed to be communicating with me. “Are you okay, Serena?” the psychiatrist asked with worry tainting his thickly accented voice. My eyes wandered over to him slowly, unwilling to be torn away from the magic like shapes that danced along the face of the wall. I slowly nodded my head as if I were a puppet being forced to. It was a struggle to act normal when I knew that I appeared anything but. “What is happening for you right now, Serena? Remember what I told you, this is your own world, Serena. We all have our own worlds. We are not here to judge you. We want to know what is happening in your world, Serena,” spoke another thickly accented voice of my psychologist. I had always loved the sound of her gentle, Zimbabwe accent. It was like a comforting safe hold. I always managed to get cocooned in the peace it brought to me. But although her voice was far more comforting than the British voice, I still felt untrusting, unsafe. I forced a smile upon my lips, although they were quivering at the edges with the thought of the tears I felt were about to escape from my wide, brown eyes. I didn’t want to be here. It wasn’t safe. Something was going to happen, I knew it. I just wasn’t sure what. I squeezed my mother’s hand tightly, hinting that I wanted to go without giving voice to my words.

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“I’ve noticed little things lately. The disassociating has started again. She’s become paranoid of invisible people being in the house watching her, or supernatural people in the trees. The cat is not allowed in the house because she’s under the impression that it’s a Shape-Shifter, and other things like such that occurred before her recovery,” my mum explained. The British psychiatrist started jotting down on his note pad before looking at my mother. I watched him intently while his voice boomed. “It’s always been hard to diagnose Serena. Sometimes I’m under the belief that she has psychosis, or sometimes I’m under the belief that she’s suffering from Post Traumatic Stress with a very vivid imagination.” I squeezed my eyes shut. How dare they try to label me? I was far from crazy. Then I looked at the brilliant shapes and wondered if it was true. Am I crazy?

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@AndyHoldcroft Anytime. I hope you join in with some of the other workshops and write more!

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@Simplywriting Well done with this. I'm glad you've tried something new with your writing - you did a great job with the prompt. I like the depth of your narrative and the way you've created beauty from tragedy - your story arc is strong and clear and I like the way you've included a backstory (with foster parents) and future possibilities with so few words. If you went back to this story and made it longer (which is seems you might want to try!), you might want to think about some dialogue to really give us the characters voices. I know with only 500 words it's impossible to fit everything in, so this is only a suggestion if you want to take the story further. Short stories are a great way to hone your writing and solidify your voice.

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Hi guys I'm not sure how this whole thing works, or if I have the concept of the prompt. However I'm going to give it a try, and I hope I get some good feedback and constructive criticism back.. Please enjoy.

Part 1

The fluffy bunny in the sky began to hop faster. Seconds after it disappeared, the fire breathing dragon flew right after it. I sit in my wheel chair and let my imagination run wild. My names Ava Summers, and although I'm impaired and stuck in this chair, I always seem to capture the good things through out my days. Like today on a school field trip to six flags, I sit back and enjoy my surroundings. Yeah I know what your thinking, how can someone in a wheel chair enjoy a trip to six flags. It's actually quiet simple, I pretend I'm queen Elizabeth. It's fun to imagine I'm a queen who doesn't want to leave her throne, than realize I'm Ava who's confined to her rolling prison. How did I get this way is a long story, and since I cant ride any of these amazing looking rides. I might as well take the time to tell you what happen.

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Part 2

Let me start from the beginning, it was a beautiful day just like this one. I woke that morning feeling great, like today was going to be the best day of my life. Sandy my B F F, called, she asked me if I wanted to go shopping. As you all know, what girl would turn up shopping. I get ready for a day of fun, and soon Sandy and I are walking down the boulevard about to enter into a lovely boutique. I reach for the door, and Bang! I'm out cold. Turns out the boutique was being robbed that day, out of all the days. The robber picks the one I decided was a good one for me. She shot me right in the head, I still don't know why I lived. Don't get me wrong I'm happy I get to see another day, but why trap me in a nightmare like this. I woke in the hospital, after three long years in a coma. My mom and dad almost lost all hope for me, the day I awoke was the day they decided to take me off life support. The doctor told them a lot of medical mumbo jumbo about my brain. I had no clue what he was saying, but the part about the bullet damaging the part of brain that control my body. That was clear to me, I would never be able to walk again. So you see, I guess that whole thing about that day being my best one, turned out to be the worst. I guess some good came from my little accident thou, I cant walk to even eat on my own anymore. But... My imagination is like no others, see that bunny and fire breathing dragon from earlier, they were real for me. My damaged thinker creates wild and vivid pictures for me, that most people only see in their dreams. So my six flags trip today isn't too bad, I do wish I could get up and stand in line for hours for the superman. Thou something tells me, superman is only a tiny thought away.

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