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Is the phrase "Once upon a time..."
Overused
33%
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 67% [ 2 ]
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For this month's writing prompt write a scene using the following sentence to start;

The streets were deserted. Where was everyone? Where had they all gone?

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Look Back

When not able to write ahead, it helps to look back. In my case I had written a paragraph ahead of the story. What I needed to do was add a section of exposition (talking) presenting some facts. In going back, I realized that I could insert a section where a 'tour' of the surroundings could be done. This allowed for character interaction, story development, and other things that enabled me to present the facts in an entertaining manner.

One should not face a writer's block with the mentality of bursting through it. I have found in my own experience that a writer's block is usually due to my mind indicating that it has a problem in 'channeling' the story. One reason might be a re-imagining of certain story points. Another reason however is that there is a problem in where you are at in the story, so you need to look back and find out the problem with the 'journey' that prevents the tale from advancing.

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 And Then It Was Over

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PostSubject: And Then It Was Over   July 2nd 2012, 6:36 pm

This is the prolouge and the first chapter of a story I'm working on right now.

Prologue

The weather had finally changed, making the mornings just right - not too cold but not too hot either. It was possible to just sit outside without a sweatshirt, drinking a cool beverage and enjoying the nice spring breeze. Andrew was watching his daughter playing with the dog she got for Christmas a couple of years ago. She was begging to have a dog for quite a while before he finally agreed on getting her one.

Samantha had always loved animals, he thought to himself, while sitting on the porch drinking his iced tea. He just couldn't believe how much his baby girl had grown since the death of her mother. He would have never imagined life being enjoyable again, but he sure had managed every thing so far so good, and even though he missed his wife more than anything, he still had his daughter that brightened up his days.

“What are you thinking about?” Charles asked his son while suddenly appearing next to him on the porch.

Andrew jumped by the sound of his fathers voice. He was wondering how long he had been standing there.

“Oh, hey, dad, I didn't even hear you coming. How long have you been watching me?”

Charles answered, “Just a couple of minutes, but when I saw that your gesture turned all serious I just had to make myself noticeable. So... What was it you were thinking about?”

Andy turned around and looked out into the sky. The sun was up since about nine o'clock this morning, but it just now started to get warmer. Charles knew exactly what he was thinking about. He had seen that look on his son's face for so many times in the last few years that it wasn't hard to tell anymore. All that pain made him seem so much older than he actually was. Charles couldn't have imagined going through every thing his son had to go through at the age of twenty four, and he was sad and felt bad for him, but on the other hand he was very proud of Andrew. Now eight years later, he had managed to come to the brighter side of life again. He had grown through all that pain, and even though it was hard, he turned into a good man and a great father. Just when Charles made a step towards Andy, he turned around and looked straight into his eyes.

“I'm pretty sure you know what I was thinking about, right dad? It's now been eight years since it happened, but I just can't get over it. Every time I look at Samantha, I see Rachel. She just so looks like her mother did. I can see how much she misses her when I look into her eyes – and she didn't even know her. She was a baby when all that happened, and I sometimes wonder if she even remembers her.”

Charles placed a hand on Andrew's shoulder. “Son, it's normal to not forget the one you love. Nobody said that you'll have to get over it, or even forget her. I could tell you that I know how you feel, but I don't. I have no idea what kind of pain you were going through, or still are going through sometimes, I can only imagine. And I'm really sorry and wish there would be a way I could help you.”

Andrew moved toward his dad and gave him a hug. “You have been more than helpful the last several years, dad. I wouldn't even know what I'd have done without you and mom. There just was no way to stay in Phoenix afterward and I'm more than happy that you offered to come and live with you and mom.”

“You're welcome, Andy,” his dad said sincere.

It wasn't often that his dad called him by his nickname. Andrew was used to just being called “Son” by his dad, but always appreciated when he called him by his nickname. He never quite understood why he did that, but maybe one day he would ask him.


Chapter One

Today was the day where Charles was going to get a delivery that would make Samantha very happy. He was going to get Samantha's birthday present last week, and today would be the day she was getting it. Andrew wasn't happy about giving it to her one week before her birthday, but when he was told that there was a possibility that he might lose it, he agreed with his father and ordered it for today. Samantha had been asking for weeks about her gift, but neither of them - not even her grandmother - had told her anything. She was used to getting every little information she asked for out of people and was not very happy about the fact that nobody told her this time. The delivery was supposed to be here around two o'clock this afternoon, and it was now ten minutes til noon.

“Lunch is ready”, Andrew's mother yelled out of the door.

Andrew waved to Samantha. “Come on, darling, lets go have lunch.”

She started running towards her dad before she turned around, bent down on her knees and beckoned to the dog. “Come on, Rudolph, come on.”

She was three years old when she got that dog for Christmas and the only thing she could think of was naming him Rudolph. It still tickled Andy when he heard the dog's name, but he still thought it was very cute.

Melanie had cooked some mashed potatoes, hamburger patties, some green beans and corn and gravy. Samantha loved her grandma's cooking and always ate the last crumb off of her plate. On some days she even licked it clean.

“Grandma?”, Samantha said out of the blue.

“Yes, dear?”

“Can you teach me how to cook? I want to be as good as you. I also want to be able to prepare a lot of meals for my family, just like you do. Will you teach me? Will you? Please, please?”

“But of course I will, Sweety. I will teach you what ever you want to learn, okay? Well of course considering I know how to cook it. Does anyone want some more mashed potatoes?” Melanie asked while smiling.

“No thank you, mom, I'm full. Oh and by the way, Sam, you know that cooking takes up a lot of work sometimes, right? I mean, there are bigger meals than just grilled cheese sandwiches or eggs sunny side up.” Andrew teased his daughter.

Samantha started laughing out loud while nudging into her dad. Andrew was once again reminded of how Rachel had sounded when she laughed. It was a sound from up above. A concert given by angels and the melody sweeter than the sweetest symphony. By the time Andy came back to reality he noticed that everyone was staring at him .

“Son! Are you okay?”, his dad asked with worry in his eyes.

“Oh yes, yes I'm fine. Why, what did I miss?”

“Didn't you hear what your daughter said?” Charles asked him.

“Umm no, I was just...umm. I am sorry, what did you say, Sam?”

She looked at her dad for a few seconds with a serious look on her face before she smiled and repeated herself.

“I said, that I know there's more than just those easy meals, but did you mention them cause those are the only ones you can cook?” Samantha teased him.

Andrew's mouth fell open and his eyes got all big. He looked deep into her eyes, started laughing and then said: 'Oh oh... Wow, now you showed me, huh? Wow that was a good one. I'll get you back for that.”

Melanie and Charles started laughing as well and for one second, just for one second their lives looked like every other one.

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PostSubject: Reply   July 2nd 2012, 8:00 pm

Definitely a different type of story than mine. I cannot hold myself to such personal topics. I guess because my own life has been so convoluted. I actually find superheroes, magic, and futuristic tales more believable than "Father Knows Best," "Leave it to Beaver," or modern versions (I really don't watch TV).

I can fuss at you, Slacker, but I won't. WRITE. It is the only way to develop the talent. I am presently having to edit my first published manuscript. While I still love the story, I had to self-publish because editors hated it. I now know why (it was not poor grammar, and neither is your writing suffering from such). I am thus editing to make it professional before seeking to republish. It took a long time for me to accept certain rules, especially as some are just modern preferences and not really rules of writing. Thus, WRITE, as you are looking for your own voice just as I searched for mine. You will find it. I believe in you.

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PostSubject: Re: And Then It Was Over   July 2nd 2012, 8:31 pm

TerishD wrote:
I can fuss at you, Slacker, but I won't. WRITE. It is the only way to develop the talent. I am presently having to edit my first published manuscript. While I still love the story, I had to self-publish because editors hated it. I now know why (it was not poor grammar, and neither is your writing suffering from such). I am thus editing to make it professional before seeking to republish. It took a long time for me to accept certain rules, especially as some are just modern preferences and not really rules of writing. Thus, WRITE, as you are looking for your own voice just as I searched for mine. You will find it. I believe in you.

I'd actually appreciate if you'd fuss at me. I'd like to know where exactly there are improvements necessary. So please, don't hold back.

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PostSubject: Reply   July 2nd 2012, 11:49 pm

I will PM it, Snacker. Here, where everyone can see, I will again say that I am glad you are able to tell this type of tale (and admit that I could not). I will also say that I believe in you. Come on, WRITE!

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