Monday, September 10, 2012

I Hope You'll Join Me in Writing a Story from a Prompt!

Image by Djayo
A couple weeks ago I had an idea for a short story and as I wrote the opening lines to the story I fell in love with them.  I don't know if it is the words themselves, or if it is just that there are so many stories that can be born from them.  Either way another idea quickly began to form.

I thought it would be a neat idea to share those opening words with my readers and then invite them to write a short story of their own.  I would love to read the stories you come up with.

The story can be as long or as short as you'd like, though I believe anywhere from 1-5k would work best.  There are no real rules for this, just something I thought would be a fun way to interact with my readers.  Those who would like to share the stories they come up with can email the story to me at kgrian (at) gmail (dot) com

Once I receive all the stories, I would love to feature a few of my favorites on my blog and perhaps if I get enough stories ideally I'd like to put together a free anthology to showcase them and publish it on Amazon.  Perhaps sometime around Halloween.  Of course before either of those take place, I would obtain your permission to do so.  You are free to participate without having to be included in the blog feature or anthology.

Here's the writing prompt:

They say silence is deafening.  I don't know if it is deafening, but I do know it is maddening.  At least it was for me.  By the time I died though, I prayed for that silence...

Let me know what you think about trying something like this, and of course, if you have any questions feel free to either leave a comment or send me an email.  Most of all, I hope you all have a blast with it!

When Death Calls - WIP


A serial killer is plaguing the city .  He first stalks his victims and torments them with obscene phone calls.  Once he grows tired of the game, he rapes and kills them, leaving behind little to no evidence.  Detective Alex Neeman and his partner David Cross must work together to find the killer before the body count raises much more.  But when Cross ends up murdered by the side of the road, Neeman is left to solve the puzzle by himself. When his ex-wife goes missing, will he be able to put the pieces together before it's too late?



The man sat down in the pew next to a woman wearing entirely too much perfume.  She was fairly attractive and seemed to go overboard with trying to look good.  Her blonde hair was from a bottle, yet had the perfect highlights, her nails were neatly manicured with a deep ruby polish.  Even her small frame looked as though it was born out of the efforts of constant gym use.  She wore a tight and somewhat revealing black dress, a bit too short for what most would consider appropriate given the reason they were all gathered.  He took it all in as he pretended to look at the program.  The thrill of being here was intoxicating.

The woman popped a cough drop in her mouth and the smell of menthol mixed with her overpowering perfume, causing him to turn his head as he tried not to choke.  Yes, he would enjoy this one.  She deserved to die.  She was sitting there taunting him.  He fought the urge to grin, he knew it would put a spotlight on him if someone happened to see it. This was a place of sadness and mourning.

The man reached up and straightened his tie, more for something to do than anything else.  He had to be patient, With any luck the woman would only stay for the service and not follow the procession out to the cemetery.  He mentally crossed his fingers.  If he was wrong, it would be a long and even more frustrating day.  The funeral's of cops always lasted much longer than those of normal citizens.  The processions are what took the most time.  Damn, why hadn't he thought of that earlier?  He had seen the cop cars lined up, so long the back of the line wasn't visible from the front.  He mentally cursed to himself, wishing he something to distract him from the building urge.  Patience, he told himself. Then he had a thought. There is a guestbook in the lobby, perhaps she would sign it on the way out.  If he had a name he could look her up.  Yes, yes.  That's it!

Sapphire and Sage - WIP


Twin sisters, separated as toddlers, soon find out that they are the current generation in a long line of powerful witches. Their line also seems a bit cursed, death tends to follow them. Their ancestor was drowned in a lake to spare her small child from being burned at the stake. Their real parents were murdered for their power. Just before their 25th birthday they are reunited and learn the truth about their family. Shortly after discovering their heritage they become targets and must learn to control their new powers before it's too late. Will they survive being hunted to continue their bloodline or will their heritage end with them?



As she jogged up the driveway, Sage brushed her sweat soaked bangs off her forehead with the back of her hand. She glanced down at her watch and smiled; she just beat her previous record by a full two minutes. She did a little victory dance and jogged the rest of the way up the stairs, stopping when she noticed the padded manila envelope propped up against her door. The mailman wouldn't have dropped the mail off this early, it was only a few minutes past 7am. 

Sage tugged the earbuds from her iPod out of her ears and picked up the envelope, checking for a return address but the only thing written on the package was her name scrawled in some sort of calligraphy type writing. She wondered who would have placed it there and why they hadn't just mailed it to her. She shrugged and tucked it under her armpit and unlocked her front door.

As Sage stepped into the kitchen she inhaled the scent coffee and smiled. She loved the way it felt to curl up on the couch with a hot cup and just savor the quiet before getting ready for the day. Her routine jog in the morning left her mind clear and she could just relax and enjoy the coffee. Usually. This time instead her mind kept going to that envelope, almost as if it were calling out to her to open it. Curiosity got the best of her and wandered over to the counter where she had left it.