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Is the phrase "Once upon a time..."
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Monthly Writing Prompt
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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Our monthly writing tips are written by our very own TerishD. You can read more in Terish's Blog located in "The Abstractions" area of the forum.

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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 Living with Spirit Girl: Cp2

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Number of posts : 1324
Age : 59
Location : Ringgold, Louisiana
Current Mood :
Registration date : 2008-07-21

PostSubject: Living with Spirit Girl: Cp2   November 16th 2016, 10:37 pm

Living with Spirit Girl
Chapter Two

Seeing the hallway clear, I signaled Blake to move. He said that he knew where the book storage room was, and I felt relieved to see that he did move in the proper direction. He also managed a gait that kept him moving quickly although relatively quiet. Of course the carpeted floor helped, but as with my own species the males could usually be heard moving about. He turned down the hallway to the book storage room, then stopped to find the doorknob not working.

“We can do this, Arraelly. Go on the other side.”

I felt the directions unnecessary, but also did not feel the time was proper to comment on details of our relationship. I simply moved through the door. The officer again spoke to me, but I ignored him to focus on the doorknob. With Blake touching it on the other side, I found some solidity in my form. Without needing him to tell me to turn the doorknob, I did so.

“Cool,” Blake said as he stepped through, only to then focus on the person on the floor. “Officer Tarkenton, do you have a key on you?”

“Should be in front pouch on the handcuff pouch, Blake. Did you see a ghost?”

It actually pleased me to find the officer to know Blake’s name. I did not feel that my contact was a bad kid, although his youthful male personality did concern me. As the officer was male, his easy acceptance of the lad had me feel that things were not improper in his development. It further pleased me to hear Blake’s reply to the question.

“Wouldn’t admit if I did.”

“No, I guess not. How many students are dead, Blake?”

I felt bad hearing that question, although the concern from the officer I felt made my plan to free him was the proper one. There was a fear that Blake would look to where I was trying to stay unobserved and ask for an answer. Again I felt relief as my contact kept his focus on the officer.

“I don’t know, Sir. I was in the media center making copies for Mrs. Carpenter. I could not just sit there however.”

“I’m surprised that your antics have not gotten you into trouble, Blake. Still, you are a smart kid. Do you have a phone on you?”

“No, Sir. I keep it in my locker.”

The act of releasing the handcuffs caused both men to rise from the floor. The officer chanced opening the door and looking both ways down the hall. He then turned back to give some advice to Blake. Listening, I moved outside to assure that both men would stay safe.

“Stay here, Blake. Let me go see about resolving this situation.”

“You need me to get my phone?”

I actually felt it was good question that would resolve a couple of problems, although also agreed with the officer’s response. “No, Blake. There are probably enough of your fellow students who did not do the right thing, so I suspect messages got sent out. Let me get a sense of this situation, and in meantime I do not want to see you as a ghost.”

“Yes, Sir.”

As the officer moved off carefully along a wall, I went back into the book room to verify something. “You are not staying in here, are you?”

“I don’t know what Officer Tarkenton can do. Let’s get that brooch, then you can do more.”

I did pause to consider the action, although had to admit, “Yes, I believe we need the options. Something about this situation just seems wrong.”

“Well, it’s definitely not right. Check the hall, Arraelly.”

I was actually impressed that Blake gave me that order. My impression of him was as someone that would just rush out without any concern for himself. I then realized that he had contacted me upon being alerted to trouble, then stayed in the media room in a protected position. Accepting that my contact might not be as immature as suspected, I first reminded him of a fact before obeying his order.

“I do not know where your locker is.”

As hoped, he only stepped out into the hall then stopped. Seeing him point, I moved in that direction. I signaled for him to return to the book room as I saw an armed man come down the hall with his focus on a device. I was glad to have signaled Blake, and that he obeyed, when the criminal stopped to look down the perpendicular hallway while griping.

“That damn gorilla is crazy. Going to go to jail for nothing.”

While I did tend to act as if affected by physical laws, I really was not. It took some thought, but I lifted myself near the ceiling in order to get a better look at the device. A smile came to my face seeing technology that I recognized. Feeling that I had actually followed my quarry, I wanted to do things besides simply observe. I thus returned to Blake to make certain that he stayed hidden while providing him with information.

Seeing him close to the door as if about to open it, I was glad that I returned. “Blake, those criminals are carrying a device that looks like the technology of our world.”

“Your world? Why would it be different?”

“We are more visually stimulated. While there is a definite spoken component to our speech, visual clues are often what we put emphasis upon.” That was enough information for him, but I needed some of my own. “What is a gorilla?”

“A gorilla?” Accepting that I did not know, he tried to explain with words and actions. “A big hairy monkey.”

Did not know what a monkey was either, but the way he put his body had me understand that it was an animal. My people would also use animal analogies however, so I accepted what I heard might not have been a literal truth. Hoping for a better explanation, I provided some information.

“The criminal that held the device said ‘that damn gorilla is crazy.’”

“He probably meant that his boss is a big, hairy, dumb-ass.”

I felt that I was understanding, but to be certain I asked, “Do you consider me a dumb-ass?”

“No!” He had a hand momentarily cover his mouth as he realized the volume of his reply. “No, Arraelly. You are very smart. You are not a gorilla either. You originally appeared very weird, but now you are completely hot.”

I had no doubt that the form he had me adopt was one that he found pleasing, so let that comment pass. “Okay, Blake, let me check again. We need you to get that brooch, as these criminals have suddenly become very important to me.”

Usually Blake made a verbal reply. This time he however signaled with his hand. I did consider that the wiser thing to do. I however also recalled just telling him that my people focused more on visual signals. Whatever my present form, I did not consider myself a local. I felt it positive that Blake would adjust so easily to me, and feeling that our relationship would improve I again headed out of the room

This time I found the hallway clear. I had to return to tell Blake that it was now clear. While the indication was that we communicated telepathically, the mechanics still required us to speak. Of course, I had no experience with telepathy and neither did Blake, so maybe with training we could learn to just think our words to each other. At the moment, I had to treat my communications with Blake as if I was talking to him.

His locker was not as far away as I feared. He quickly went through the combination. While filled with books, I was also glad to see that he had the brooch in a pouch along with his phone. I could tell that he still felt the ornament as being improper to wear as he stuck it on the inside of his shirt. As he closed the locker, I however turned with him upon hearing a distant voice yell.

“HEY! I got a signal! Come on!”

Suddenly, I felt a need to make a decision. I was not here by any technology I knew, but by an instrument of the one who went before me. He however should have only been seconds ahead of me. Still, if anyone would know about me, it would be him. I had also seen one of the criminals with a device clearly of my world. The facts came together quickly with me making a decision.

“Loose the brooch, Blake.”

He did not question me. He did look at me strangely, but unpinned the ornament and put it back in the pouch with his phone. I then signaled for him to run, and he did not question that fact either.

I saw him move to a door, look to me upon finding it locked, although I paused upon hearing, “Damn! Lost it. It was there however!”

Blake tapped the door, and I moved understanding that he needed me. Again I moved through the door. I saw people, mostly children, huddling, but felt that was a good thing. I focused, felt the presence of Blake, then solidified enough to work the latch. As he opened the door, I stepped up to speak to him.

“Hide with the children. They won’t be able to identify you.”

He whispered back, “How could they detect the brooch?”

“I don’t know, but I told you that I was an alien. I am here by technology. We might not understand, but the man I was chasing would. Stay hidden and quiet.”


He did relock the door. Some questions were whispered to Blake, but the lad had enough good sense to tell just enough facts to remove suspicion. Seeing him fall into place with the other children, I left through the door to find out some answers.

Luckily, I had waited for the criminals to move from this part of the school. Whatever signal their device was to pick up could not have been close. I saw them back in the hallway, but still unsure about the momentary hit on their device. I however saw one criminal lift a phone to his ear and speak.

“We picked up the signal for just a moment.” After a pause, he then said, “I don’t care what you say. I’m telling you that we are finding nothing. There was something for a moment, but that was all.” Again a pause, then I heard, “Honidder, we are going to jail for your sorry device.”

I knew the name Honidder. Now things were making sense for me. I was chasing Lorither, as that was the man behind the crimes. Honidder was a known scientist that had been associated with criminals, but actually released for serving his time. He had dropped out of sight, but that was actually the concern of the courts with us police only becoming involved should he again commit a crime or we were otherwise alerted through our system. While I had gained some rumors of Honidder working with Lorither, I wanted the man truly responsible and not just some technician providing some equipment. I now felt that I knew how these criminals had already managed to get some devices simulating the technology of my world, and that was because Honnider had been here much longer than me or Lorither.

Suddenly, I had hope about going home. Lorither would not have jumped through, even to escape the law, an untested device. Honidder had to have already gone through, and been able to return a signal of his success. I even imagined that Honidder had returned to deliver a report personally. Feeling that my life could be restored, I tried to figure out a way to gain the upper hand in this situation.

Fantasy puts more requirements on the writer than any other fiction, because the world must be made as real before anything else can be real.
Adult Christian fiction quite different than all the usual lame stuff in that market.  "Dilemma of Dreams" now in hard back.
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