Monday, April 13, 2015

Monday's Minute Challenge: Writing prompt contest for teens & up!

A quick writing challenge (and contest) to help get your creative juices flowing for the new week.

  1. The entry must be between 150 - 300 words. (In order to see how many words your entry is, write it in Microsoft Word, or you can copy and paste it here.)
  2. The deadline for the contest will be the Thursday after next. 
  3. The winners will receive a badge for their blog, as well as extra points (see the point system below).
  4. The winner will be chosen based on the judges's preferences, as well as the following questions: Does this entry capture my attention immediately? Does it make me want to continue reading? Is the writing clear? They will also take into consideration the writer's voice and style--not necessarily technical issues, such as grammar, punctuation, etc. 
  5. This is only for fun and to stretch your writing muscles--not necessarily to be taken too seriously. =)

Since the point system has caused a bit of confusion recently, I have decided to take a different approach.

From now on, I will host a monthly giveaway, and one winner will be announced every four weeks. 

Keep in mind that you are in charge of your points from now on. If you win a contest, the only way that you will receive your points is by clicking the entry below. 

Also, if you have already liked my Facebook page, followed me on Twitter, etc. then make sure to click those entries as well in order to receive your points. 

a Rafflecopter giveaway


There will be one randomly-selected winner chosen from the above raffle each month. They will have the choice of receiving one of the following prizes:

  • A critique on of one of their MMC entries
  • A blog critique
  • A 300 - 600 word critique on your novel, short story, blog post, etc
  • The opportunity to judge one of the contests
  • A free ebook of PURPLE MOON
  • A special surprise sent to your mailbox (snail mail, not email)


This month's giveaway winner is . . .  TW Wright! Congratulations! Be sure to send me an email to let me know the prize that you have chosen (listed above).

The judge panel chooses these winners based on a point system (not to be confused with the point system mentioned above!).

Keep in mind that the judges are not aware of which entry belongs to which participant until after the judging is complete.

The entries that the judges thought were the most intriguing (based on rule #4) are ... 

Third place winner: 

I slam the door of my car. What am I doing here? Why am I standing on his front steps, about to ask for forgiveness? My black hair brushes my jaw as I adjust my purse strap on my shoulder. I shouldn't do this. I should turn around, never come back. I don't deserve his forgiveness. My fist pauses inches from the wood door, poised to knock. But the door moves away and I stand there awkwardly, my fist as though it were going to knock and my brown almond shaped eyes staring at the person who opened the door. "Kat?" The man asks. His blonde hair is mussed, and he smells like fresh paint. I give him a small smile, moving my hand it my purse strap. "Hi, Landon." I say, quietly. He studies my face.
"Why are you here?"
"I just... I just wanted to say hi." I answer meekly.
"Oh. Well, hi. How are you?"
"I'm okay, I mean..." I look back at my car. The car that I've been living in for three weeks. A tear slips down my cheek.
"Kat, are you crying?" I hear Landon say. Slowly, I turn my head, forcing myself to look at him. I sniff and wipe the tear away, plastering a smile on my face. But it doesn't stay for long. I start sobbing and without thinking, I throw myself into his arms. His arms wrap around me. "Landon, I messed up. Please. You're all I have left. Help me."
Congratulations, FlyGirl! Click here for your badgeand don't forget to claim your points here. =) 

Second place winner: 

Beautiful yet foreboding. Rose-tinged clouds hung tensely above her head, moving restlessly and uneasily into each other, forewarning of the coming storm- as it always was, beauty bringing warning of destruction.

She slammed the door of her car. What was she doing here? Her chest compressed as she leaned against the rusting frame. Too many memories. Horrors she tried to forget. Yet no matter how far or how fast she ran, she was always brought back here. As if she were meant to end here. Blinking, she narrowed her eyes against the wind and moved forward, her feet crunching against the rocky, overgrown ground. Yes, it was all still here; scattered bits of what used to be lives and loves and happiness everywhere, lying on the ground in a cruel, mocking display. 

Her feet moved forward, her eyes unwillingly observing each ravaged item. There was a dress lying on the ground, shredded and torn. Elements had faded the once cheery pattern, and it was impossible to tell if it had belonged to a child or woman. On her right was a moldy, decomposing book. On the front she could just make out the shape of a horse and rider. Probably it had belonged to Mrs. Kohl; she'd always had an affinity for Westerns. And there was a pair of rusting sewing scissors- probably Myra's. Shattered lightbulbs lay in the remains of a dog dish.

She stopped short. Right in front of her, beyond the remains of Mr. Krauswitz's pottery. The piano. Her piano. It was mostly still intact, but being slowly swallowed by the overgrowth. She stared. Fighting the memories. She hadn't touched a piano in years. She wouldn't touch it now. To touch it would make it all frighteningly real again... this nightmare that she wished had stayed only in her dreams.
Congratulations, S. BrightlyClick here for your badge, and don't forget to claim your points here. =)

First place winner: 

      I slammed the door of my car. What was I doing here?
      Del whined from the passenger seat, her ears pressed flat against her head. She stared after me with mournful eyes. I reached in through the half-open window and ran my hand down the fur of her neck. “I know, girl, I know. I won’t be long, ok?" 

     The dog whimpered again. “Look, I don’t like it either. But this is my job.”
      I could feel her watching me as I walked up the driveway. Halfway there I stopped and looked back. Del was pressed up against the door with her head out as far as the window would allow. The breeze clearly carried the sound of her whimpering to me.  
      I shivered, and not from the light wind. I trusted Del’s instincts, she was usually spot on in gauging a dangerous situation. This wasn’t our first job together, but I had never seen her this agitated. 
      With one last glance at the building, I turned and jogged back to the car. Del flung herself onto me the second I got the door open, growling softly as I clipped the leash to her collar. 
      We approached the house together and climbed the steps. My hand subconsciously dropped to the weapon at my side as my eyes darted in every direction. 
      Del’s growling intensified as we reached the door. Her fur bristled, and I felt another chill sweep over me. Standing straighter, I raised my fist and thumped twice on the solid oak door. 
      Then we waited.
Congratulations, Sierra! Click here for your badge, and don't forget to claim your points here. =)

Honorable Recognitions

These winners will receive a badge, as well as 2 extra points:
  1. Morgan
  2. Lace
  3. Maddie/Meredith

Thanks so much to everyone who participated!

  • Submit your response in the comments below, or post it on your blog via InLink (below -- you will receive 2 extra points!). 
  • Your response should range between 150 - 300 words. 
  • The deadline for the contest will be the Thursday after next. 
  • If you'd rather not submit your post in the comments or on your blog, you may email it to me instead.

Choose at least one:

Note: You can always combine the prompts into one entry.

(Optional) Write a passage continuing your entry from last week week (or whichever week you'd prefer). If you can, try to continue it using one of the following prompts.
  • Write a passage using these items: clouds, letter, train (submitted by Maddie/Meredith)
  • Write a passage based on this picture (submitted by Lace)
  • Write a passage either incorporating this phrase OR based on this phrase:  
    The past is the past. But what if someone changed it? (submitted by Ro)
*If your prompt was selected, be sure to claim your points here

Post your entry on your blog!:

If you're posting your entry on your blog (+2 points), please add your link below rather than in the comments. And don't forget to claim your points here!

Submit your prompt idea!:

The prompts that are used for Monday's Minute Challenge are submitted by the participants. Here's how this works:
  • You will be able to submit 3 prompts each week in the same format as above: three objects, one picture, and a piece of dialogue or phrase.
  • On Mondays, I will choose 3 prompts that have been submitted by 3 different people.
  • If your prompt is selected, you will receive 2 points!
  • You may submit in the comments below.

Current Judge Panel:

  • Tessa Emily Hall
  • Kate Petty
  • Caroline George
post signature
post signature


  1. Here are the prompts I am submitting:

    WORDS: Waterbottle, Apples, and Beach
    SENTENCE: I never thought this could happen to anyone I knew, much less myself.

  2. Story:: Because of Eight Years
    Prompt:: Challenged myself to use all three! (and I did!)
    Words:: 300 (hmm I see a trend)

    I’ve always despised the past.

    What was it about humankind that kept them desperately looking ahead, only to realize that they had ruined the “now,” and it was gone forever? Why was it that no one thought of the damage they wreaked upon the innocent who lived in the middle of the now? Why hadn’t I realized…

    Eight years ago why did I not realize.

    I held her letter in my hand as the train tugged along its track, jostling the cars. Shabby paper dated a month before my fateful arrival. She had asked me to come, and I had come. Eight years ago I had come. And now I came again.

    The past could be changed, I was sure of it.

    I watched her leave the first time, trudging desolately away from the place, a newspaper covering her head and her broken heart. The picture of young innocence waiting for her hero who would never arrive. Aching longing to have that moment back burned in me now, but then I was only naïve.

    I did arrive. But I stepped back on the train.


    Today’s skies were overcast and grey with thunder. I couldn’t have asked for a better replicated day to mirror those eight long years ago. Everything would be identical, except my mistake. She would come to the train to meet me, eight years older. She would look for me with those desperate blue eyes of hers, eight years stronger. And this time, once I departed the train platform. I would not return.

    I would stay.

    But eight long years later everything was not the same. With the mark of eight years on it, the station was vacant of all life that mattered.

    Eight long years later, among the crowds and the faces, she was not there.


  3. Here are my prompts:
    Three words: Lemonade, Guitar, Denim
    Sentence: I could turn away now and now harm would be done, but I would be plagued all my life with curiosity. Or I could open it, and change my life forever.

  4. Thank you for the Honorable Recognition and for choosing my prompt. I also want to say congratulations on your new acting roles! I love acting, too, and I have always wanted to be in movies. I just wanted you to know that your post encouraged me:)
    For my entry this week, I used the items prompt and I based it off of the phrase. It's 300 words long.

    Little Sam sat on the floor, toy soldiers in hand. Looking out at the rain that was coming in torrents from the clouds, he tried to decide which story should be played out with the little green men. Should he tell the real story? Or the one that should have been? Nodding to himself when he’d decided, he set the two plastic figures next to the others that were already in position. Turning, he reached into the bucket beside him, and pulled out a tank, setting it on one of the opposing sides. Three men he placed on a toy train, and the soldiers traveled from the far end of the room to the middle of it. The men jumped quickly down when they reached it, ready to help their fighting brothers.

    The battle was looking bleak when they arrived. So many men had fallen, and there were countless wounded. But all was not lost, for with them now was fighting Sergeant Lee West, the best soldier that ever lived. Quickly, he helped the forces break through, and (was it possible?) blew up the tank on the opposing side. Victory hung in the air. And Sergeant West: he was a hero, the greatest one of all.

    Sam picked up the little man, in his chubby hand. Lovingly, he turned him over and looked at the bottom of the toy’s stand. On it was written “Da” - a letter had rubbed off. Running to his desk and finding a marker amidst the clutter of things, he uncapped it and wrote the missing letter. “Dad,” it now read, in a child’s scribbled hand.

    The little boy looked at the toys in the middle of the room and smiled. He’d done it. He’d changed the past to the way it should have been.

    My prompts are:
    2.) Spark, Eyes, Dark
    3.) Now I know that my life isn't a fairytale...and I shouldn't have expected it to be.


  5. Here's my entry!
    I used the picture and the three item prompts.
    Dove stood on the platform of the train station, holding a newspaper over her head in a feeble attempt to shield herself from the pouring rain. Her uncle’s letter had said that he would meet her here, but she didn’t see him anywhere.
    Cars drove by on the road, and a particularly large truck sent a wave of water cascading over her. Dove jumped back as the dirty water splashed against her white shirt. “Come on!”
    “Having troubles, miss?” A well dressed gentleman asked politely.
    “What? Oh, no. I’m all right. It’s just all this rain.” Dove scowled up at the dark rainclouds. “But you can’t help with that.”
    The man smiled and twirled his cane with expert fingers. “Can’t I?”
    At that very moment, the clouds parted and the rain lessened. Dove gaped at the man. He smiled once more, tipped his hat to her, and disappeared into the crowd.
    “Dove!” Her uncle’s voice cut through the noise and commotion of the train station. “Over here!”
    Dove craned her neck for one last glance at the man, but he was gone. Instead, she spotted her uncle moving towards her, and quickly rushed over to the shelter of his umbrella.

  6. I'm am going off of the quote

    "No!" I cover my eyes as a blinding white light fills the room. After a few seconds the light recedes. I look around me. No one. I was the only one in the room. I sigh and sink down to the floor. I can't believe that Chris did that. He knew the risks and yet he still went after Mariel. I slap the floor. Something bad is going to happen. I can feel it. All of a sudden the room goes blurry and I get a splitting headache. "What's happening?!" Then, it's over. Chris is standing in the middle of the room, Mariel in his arms. I jump up. "Chris! You're back. That was fast." He just looks at me and gently lays Mariel on the floor. I put my hand on his arm. "Chris? What happened?" He looks away. "Something bad Kat. Something bad." " What do you-" I see Mariel sit up and rub her head. I kneel down next to her. "Oh Mariel. I'm so glad you're ok." Mariel puts a hand on my cheek. "Oh Kat. I thought I'd never see u again." I lean in and give her a hug. She hugs me back though it is weak. Suddenly she pulls away. "What's the matter?" Mariel stares at me, her eyes wide. "Kat....we....we....I think we messed up history."


Thanks for stopping by my blog!