tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093187878739089807.post3116703023093002775..comments2023-12-12T02:24:15.920-08:00Comments on Tessa Emily Hall ~ Christ is Write: Monday's Minute Challenge: Writing Prompt Contest for Teens & Up!Tessa Emily Hallhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08625256104634830104noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093187878739089807.post-16148071648467370662014-10-18T06:11:47.958-07:002014-10-18T06:11:47.958-07:00My prompts:
Sentence: I was tired of trying to no...My prompts: <br />Sentence: I was tired of trying to not break down.<br />Objects: garage, snail, smile<br />Picture: http://www.pinterest.com/pin/186055028331449466/Sofia Mariehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03703884443937255154noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093187878739089807.post-14955382348026334452014-10-17T15:11:00.434-07:002014-10-17T15:11:00.434-07:00Hi Anonymous,
I try to get my writing done in the...Hi Anonymous,<br /><br />I try to get my writing done in the mornings before I do anything else. When I was a senior in high school, I would wake up a couple hours early so I could get in my writing time before school started. If you still can't seem to find a time to write, I'd suggest writing during the small blocks of time that you do have--such as when you're in the car (on your phone), after finishing your chores, etc. And if you ever watch TV or get on the computer, remember that you can always use that time to write instead. Five minutes a day is still better than nothing. =)<br /><br />Hope I helped!<br /><br />TessaTessa Emily Hallhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08625256104634830104noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093187878739089807.post-89547436811785785902014-10-13T23:42:47.657-07:002014-10-13T23:42:47.657-07:00Thanks for the Third Place! This is 293 words and ...Thanks for the Third Place! This is 293 words and a continuation to the one I did this last week. I used the object prompts.<br /><br />I stared in astonishment at the gun she’d thrust toward me. “What am I supposed to do with this?” I asked confused as to whether she was intending me to shoot her or myself.<br /><br />“Use it obviously.” She was up from the table now, shrugging on a trench coat. She pulled a slip of paper from the pocket and gave it to me. I unfolded it and read down the list of five or six names and addresses.<br /><br />“What is this?” I asked.<br /><br />“A list of your customers.”<br /><br />“Customers? What am I selling?” <br /><br />She chuckled amusedly and shrugged. “A bullet, real-estate six feet under. Call it what you want.” It slowly dawned on me what I held: a hit man’s list. I threw the list at her feet. “I won’t be part of this.”<br /><br />Her face no longer held a look of amusement. She tapped a pen in her hand as an angry cap would flick its tail. “Oh no?” Returning to the table she retrieved a manila envelope and withdrew a picture from it. She handed the photograph to me. “Do you know who this is?”<br /><br />“My mother."<br /><br />“Exactly. Do as you are told and don’t ask questions unless you want her name on your list.” I swallowed hard. <br /><br />Outside, the rain came down in sheets, blown by the driving wind. Water ran down the street in front of me into a storm drain half-clogged with leaves. I could feel the cold metal of the gun touch my fingers as I buried my hands in my pockets to protect them from the cold. <br /><br />As much as everything in me cried out against what I was about to do, I found myself heading in the direction of the first name on my list. <br /><br /><br /><br />HPHis Princesshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05475369272547689946noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093187878739089807.post-12117086722126082202014-10-12T21:43:01.088-07:002014-10-12T21:43:01.088-07:00Oohh, very good! :D
HPOohh, very good! :D<br /><br />HPHis Princesshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05475369272547689946noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093187878739089807.post-58010567502135550682014-10-12T21:38:10.063-07:002014-10-12T21:38:10.063-07:00Object prompts: knitting needles, spoon, crank.
S...Object prompts: knitting needles, spoon, crank.<br /><br />Sentence prompt: I flipped the knife over in my hand and took a deep breath. What other options did I have?<br /><br />Picture prompts: http://www.pinterest.com/pin/486811040942591312/<br /><br />HPHis Princesshttps://www.blogger.com/profile/05475369272547689946noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093187878739089807.post-21842676206553390882014-10-11T06:59:02.611-07:002014-10-11T06:59:02.611-07:00My prompts:
Picture Prompt: http://www.pinterest.c...My prompts:<br />Picture Prompt: http://www.pinterest.com/pin/492862752944234264/<br />Quote Prompt: "I'm sorry everything changed."<br />Object Prompt: hoodie, brother, hair dyeTW Wrighthttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08213969076030457918noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093187878739089807.post-85184353677667228722014-10-10T11:21:11.952-07:002014-10-10T11:21:11.952-07:00I am a giant history fan (thanks you my dad.) I wa...I am a giant history fan (thanks you my dad.) I was inspired to write after reading <br />Gods and Generals by Jeff Shaara<br />Annie, Between the States by L.M. Elliot <br />and The Best Little Stories from the Civil War by C. Brian KellyAngelanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093187878739089807.post-77754589950332014902014-10-10T00:56:16.694-07:002014-10-10T00:56:16.694-07:00Here's mine. It uses the three words: leaf, pe...Here's mine. It uses the three words: leaf, pen, envelope. 174 words. Hope you like it. :) <br /><br /><br />I stand at the summit, looking down at the crimson and gold valley. This was where we had met. Any minute now he’ll come bounding up behind me telling me to “keep an even pace, won’t you Angie?” And then he’ll grin that smile that let me know I meant something to him. He’ll wrap me in a big hug and I’ll just stay there. Yes. That’s how it should be. I sit on a rock and take out a leaf of paper and a pen. Looking over the world, I pour my heart out to the one who should be here with me. The final words are “I miss you. Come back.” Is there anything more to say, are there words that can portray this better? I stand up and for a minute close my eyes. “God…” I pray. “Help me”. Then I open them, let go of the letter and let the wind carry it. There’s no need for an envelope; there’s no need for a stamp. Because war has its victims. Sofia Mariehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03703884443937255154noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093187878739089807.post-26610860750156214492014-10-09T13:05:34.276-07:002014-10-09T13:05:34.276-07:00I guess I just make time for writing. but I also ...I guess I just make time for writing. but I also have a journal that I like to write in if I find spare time when I am in the car or something.<br />`Kaity`Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093187878739089807.post-62858384667475118812014-10-09T13:02:04.867-07:002014-10-09T13:02:04.867-07:00That is amazing! Great job! I am glad I am not t...That is amazing! Great job! I am glad I am not the only one who loves the civil war.<br />`Kaity` Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093187878739089807.post-25389360251945533472014-10-09T12:58:48.307-07:002014-10-09T12:58:48.307-07:00Here are my prompts!
Saying: Scenes from the past...Here are my prompts!<br />Saying: Scenes from the past swirled around me. Pain and sorrow started to overwhelm me.<br />Objects: marbles, attic, mother<br />`Kaity`<br /><br /><br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093187878739089807.post-87938463642266634692014-10-09T12:38:12.678-07:002014-10-09T12:38:12.678-07:00Hey Guys! It’s me `Kaity`. Here is my story ‘Arm...Hey Guys! It’s me `Kaity`. Here is my story ‘Armed with faith’. I’m building off of my last story. And this one is exactly 300 words long.<br /><br /> When I saw who my opponent was, I almost burst out laughing. A girl! Even with her ‘god’ she had no chance. Million dollars here I come! As I walked down the isle, my fellow fighters patted me on my back. They acted like I had all ready won. Truthfully, I felt that way too. I knew that with all of my size and strength I would certainly win the fight. Nearing the steps to the arena I watched the girl chose her weapon; a slingshot. I smirked. Either the girl was welcoming death or she was plumb crazy! I grabbed a sword. Then she turned around… <br /><br />I picked up a slingshot, took a deep breath and let it out. A feeling of peace swept over me. I closed my eyes. “Dear God.” I prayed “If you wish to bring me home today please do it without much pain. And please take care of Nicky and Ben. Cover their eyes from the things that men do to Christians like us.”<br /><br />The moment I saw her face I wanted to run and hide. Behind the girl stood a towering man clothed in pure white. He was welding a sword made of fire. All my thoughts of fame and riches went up in smoke; fear overtook me.<br /><br />When I opened my eyes I noticed my opponent had lost all of the color in his cheeks. His hands were shaking so bad that his sword looked like it was ready to clatter to the floor. Seeing that I knew God was protecting me. <br /><br /> Something was protecting her. “Angels!” A voice seemed to whisper in my ear. A lump rose in my throat. I had always thought that angels were a figment of someone’s imagination, now I am not so sure.<br />Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093187878739089807.post-74680619536766527182014-10-08T16:45:30.865-07:002014-10-08T16:45:30.865-07:00A few minor corrections: by in the third sentence ...A few minor corrections: by in the third sentence should be but and for historical accuracy, the narrator is a plantation owner's son so soon he will inherit a plantation because he is Southern Angelanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093187878739089807.post-55501071746857088332014-10-08T06:43:37.705-07:002014-10-08T06:43:37.705-07:00Here are my prompt ideas:
Sentence Prompt - Would ...Here are my prompt ideas:<br />Sentence Prompt - Would someone really betray me like that, even though I was innocent?<br />Picture Prompt - http://www.pinterest.com/pin/461548661785424172/<br />Object Prompt - mirror, water, combAnonymoushttps://www.blogger.com/profile/08138333213799126428noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093187878739089807.post-35010233374377664052014-10-07T17:58:26.623-07:002014-10-07T17:58:26.623-07:00I usually do it on the weekends or I stay up late....I usually do it on the weekends or I stay up late. I try to get my homework and housework done right when I get home from school, then I do it.<br /><br />Hope this helps!<br /><br />-FlyGirlAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093187878739089807.post-65658417648390523522014-10-07T17:51:04.966-07:002014-10-07T17:51:04.966-07:00Congrats to all! Here is my entry, it is 300 word...Congrats to all! Here is my entry, it is 300 words long. I used the picture prompt.<br /><br />I walked sat down at the table, glancing around the cafe. “Nikki, calm down.” Jace said, sipping his coffee and looking at me through the steam.<br /> “How can I?” I whispered. “We are being targeted, Jace. Our pictures are plastered all over the news.”<br /> “Because of your stunt.”<br /> “It was your idea I fake my death.” “It was your idea to disappear into the river. When they didn’t find your body, they knew you were alive.” I leaned back and took a sip of my coffee. Jace was right. I had nothing to worry about. We had dyed our hair, we had faked our deaths. We were fine. Then why did I feel like I was being watched? I glanced around again. A guy in the corner booth was watching the TV. His waitress came by and he stopped her. “Can you turn this up? I have been following this story and trying to find the people it is about.” The waitress raised her eyebrow. “I am a reporter.” I looked at the TV. It was Jace and me. The man’s words sank into me, and I finally understood them. Reporter. I nearly choked on the coffee I was sipping. A reporter was way worse than an agent. I nudged Jace’s leg under the table with my foot. “I heard.” He mumbled. I swiveled in my seat, looking at the TV. On the screen was an old picture of us. Back when I had dyed my hair red and Jace’s hair was black. The guy was taking notes on our story. He got up and walked over. I kicked Jace’s leg.<br /> “Hi. You seem to be interested in the story of the two missing people. Mind if I ask you a few questions?” I swallowed hard. No backing out now. <br /><br />-FlyGirlAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093187878739089807.post-15973693728055861072014-10-07T17:39:01.584-07:002014-10-07T17:39:01.584-07:00Awesome!Awesome!Anonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093187878739089807.post-24490958733808856192014-10-07T15:12:14.202-07:002014-10-07T15:12:14.202-07:00Here's my entry... (I used the sentence prompt...Here's my entry... (I used the sentence prompt) <br /><br />It was a lie I forced myself to believe all my life--until today.<br /> I am not alone in my lie though. It has been religiously believed ever since the beginning of our nation. <br />It’s acceptable to own men who are a different color than you are. They aren’t oppressed by protected and looked after. It is just for the superior race to mind the minorities.<br /> If owning another is just, than is this a just war? I cannot fathom that. Maybe it is because I am a farmer’s son. If you asked me what West Point was, I couldn’t tell you. If you asked me to show you how to pitch a crude tent, I wouldn’t know what goes where. And if you instructed me to shoot at my brother just because he is wearing a different color than I and speaks with a Yankee wheeze, I don’t think I could. At least, I didn’t think I could. <br />Lies change people. I am living proof of that because here I am ten feet from my brother, rifle aimed high, trigger pulled back… *click.* <br />Lies are painted red. I never knew what color they were -- until today. <br /><br /><br />-This entry is from the point of view of a young Southern soldier during the Civil War. I really love history and I hope you will enjoy it too! <br /><br />Angelanoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7093187878739089807.post-19267174170727577042014-10-07T13:05:50.095-07:002014-10-07T13:05:50.095-07:00How do you have time to write? I'm in a house ...How do you have time to write? I'm in a house full of boys and have most of the housework and I have very little free time.- by the time I do school, housework, laundry, dishes, I'm falling asleep. How do you do it. Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com