Here i will share my journey of hopefully one day recognising my dream of becoming published writing what i love to read; Romance!
Showing posts with label crusader challenge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label crusader challenge. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Show not Tell : Campaign Challenge

Third Challenge for the Campaign. (i think i missed the second one!)
Check out the full details here

Write a blog post in 300 words or less, excluding the title. The post can be in any format, whether flash fiction, non-fiction, humorous blog musings, poem, etc. The blog post shouldshow:
  • that it’s morning, 
  • that a man or a woman (or both) is at the beach
  • that the MC (main character) is bored
  • that something stinks behind where he/she is sitting
  • that something surprising happens.
Just for fun, see if you can involve all five senses. AND include these random words: "synbatec," "wastopaneer," and "tacise."   (NB. these words are completely made up and are not intended to have any meaning other than the one you give them). .


Here's my stab at it!

Through amber tinted sunglasses, Jodie watched the determined surfers tackling the rowdy waves. Stupid wastopaneers. The rising sun seeped into her skin making her all droopy and blah. Wasn’t supposed to be so hot this early. 

Shifting uncomfortably to a shady spot on the hot sand she blew out a breath, ignoring the synbatec buzzing close by. Not even the slight breeze could dispel the feeling that she could be doing something so much better than soaking in the sun, being bitten by the tiny, hungry bloodsuckers hidden in the sand. Anything. 

Why did I come here? Hate the beach. Can’t swim so no point in taking a dip. Can’t be bothered doing anything else.

Inhaling the salty air and ending on a sigh, the sharp tang of something tacise hit her nostrils. Geez, what died?

Wind rustled through the tall palm leaves above, dappling the sand around her, ruffling her limp, damp hair. Worse. It propelled the stink from behind the tree right into her face.

Bleark! Covering her mouth and nose with a sweaty palm she lifted her sunnies and peered through the leaves. Breathing through her teeth and willing the lumpy, salty taste at the back of her throat away, her toes searched the hot sand for her jandals. 

The shiver caught her unaware, her skin pebbling painfully.  Bending low and lifting the surprisingly cool leaves with one hand, she toed the brown clump. Hissing, the hairy flesh shifted as the flies covered the hole her toe created. 

Jodie jumped back retching, all thought of breathing carefully gone.

Stomach pitching wildly she turned away focusing on the crashing waves and the unaware surfers.

How the hell am I going to tell Michelle?

word count: 282
Did i show? Tell me where i've told and let me know where i need work!

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Show not Tell - Final Crusader Challenge

Show Not Tell Crusader Challenge: In 300 words or less, write a passage (it can be an excerpt from your WIP, flash fiction, a poem, or any other writing) that shows (rather than tells) the following:

  • you're scared and hungry
  • it's dusk
  • you think someone is following you
  • and just for fun, see if you can involve all five senses AND include these random words: shimmer, saccadic, substance, and salt.
Click the link above to read other entries!



Stumbling like a drunk against the cold stone walls, tripping over things without substance, I fought to  control myself.
She was coming. Had to keep moving, the light shimmered ahead in the doorway like a beacon from Heaven. Heaven before me, hell behind.
The fear clutched at me, tightening my lungs, constricting my heart. Hardly any breath, unsteady legs, stinging salt of tears and sweat trickling into my mouth. Not good enough. The energy was sapping rapidly now, my stomach a gnawing knot of emptiness.
The dimming light, warmth from the sun dying, proof the third day was ending.
Keep going, must keep going.
Resting against the freezing stone wall for a nanosecond, my eyes doing a saccadic dance between the beacon of salvation and the echoing footsteps in the dark. The damp seeps into my pores, fills my nostrils with the stench of my own fear. Not like this, please. I don't want to die.
The echoing steps come closer, a rapid staccato on the concrete ground.
With a strangled cry my legs move of their own accord, pulled by the invisible cord of instinct to safety. Nearly there. If only my legs weren't so wobbly. Damn it, run!

200 words! What do you think?