My favorite prompt is here, to write a story in x lines; this time, x = 10. It starts below this line…
On and off over the last ten years, I’ve used a program called Scrivener, which is pretty much a whole writing environment for those of us who write.
I haven’t used it in a while, but I’ve kept it up to date and have been using it for the book of family stories I’ve been working on (the one Mary wanted me to write and is wondering if I’m ever going to finish).
Yesterday, I found a bunch of projects that I had worked on, and I realized that, while I don’t consider myself a fiction writer, I did a lot of it at one time, created a lot of characters that I still love, and wrote stuff that I actually like to read, and I’m wondering if maybe it’s something I should pursue further.
One of the characters is Blake Stephenson, who lost his single mother at fourteen and is living with another family while trying hard to maintain his own identity and find out more about his family, hard to do when your mother grew up in an Amish community.
His foster family includes a girl his age (they were born in the same hospital an hour apart) to whom he’s attracted, a younger sister that’s as laconic as he is, a foster mom who wants him to act like a normal kid in the worst way, a foster dad who just wants him to cut the lawn and help with the outdoor work, and an ill-tempered white Persian cat named Snowball.
The other character is Mary Cecelia O’Brian and her family, including her father, who was a bartender and restaurateur in a small city in Indiana before moving to New Mexico when he semi-retired, her ex-husband (who is actually someone else’s character, so I speak of him only in the abstract), who was a mage from another dimension, her three kids (Patsy, Sean, and Jeanette), two of whom are endowed with magical powers and the third is not, although she’s very intelligent, and a biracial girl named Abby who had been homeless until Mary Cecelia and her ex took her in.
Mary Cecelia’s kids (the ones with magical powers) managed to send her 50 years into the past, where she worked as a Playboy Bunny at the Playboy Resort in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin while trying to get back to her own time; when it happened, she occupied the body of a young woman named Holly Dover, and the two of them became fast friends.
This all sounds silly when I sit and write it down, which is why I gave up writing fiction in the first place, but in reading the stories, new ideas came to mind; guess you’ll just have to read the book if it ever comes out…
Maybe I should just finish the memoir first and decide where to go after that.
But, it’s kinda fun to think about, isn’t it?