CWE – Sportscasters

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Well, I’ve been in full writing mode with my Copywriting job and trying to finish up a book series (scatterdashesbook.com) that I have all but completely neglected this loyal site.

With a new year comes new self promises and I want to do a couple of things: read more and write more out of my comfort zone.

So that means a creative writing example featuring a script! The prompt I was given was “At a romantic restaurant on a busy Saturday night, a guy gets down on one knee and begins to propose. You are a sportscaster doing color commentary of the occasion for a live television audience.”

 

Mark

Well Jim it looks like it’s finally come down to this.

Jim

I know Mark, I don’t think anyone else but Stephen here really saw this coming.

Mark

Truly a moment in the making.

Jim

And there he goes. He fakes dropping a napkin. What a stylish move.

Mark

Very classy. Jim. It’s a move that hasn’t been used in over a week. Probably.

Jim

Right you are. And now as we sit, we watch slowly as Stephen tries to pull the ring box from his pants.

Mark

It looks like his date has no idea what is going on right now.

Jim

I’d have to agree with you, Mark. She is looking very disinterested. Possibly checking one of those social media things.

Mark

You know, I never really got into that social thing. My son likes it though. Always taking pictures and whatnot.

Jim

Great for him. OH! STEPHEN FUMBLES THE BOX!

Mark

Classic rookie move here. With a slip up like that, you’d think this was the first time he has ever done this.

Jim

He recovers quickly though and begins to straighten up. He gets her attention. Just look at that smile, mark.

Mark

Stephen is really beaming. He’s been waiting for this moment.

Jim

He has and now it looks like everything might pay off. He opens the box. My, look at that thing!

Mark

Aren’t you supposed to spend 3 months’ salary on a ring?

Jim

That you are, but it looks like Stephen didn’t get that memo. Maybe it was a tweeter that missed his inbox or something.

Mark

Uh oh. His date doesn’t seem too impressed with it either. She is standing up. Let’s see if we can get a better feed from the field. Jess?

Jess

HI Mark, Jim. Before the dinner, I asked Stephen if he was nervous and after the dropping of the box we can totally tell that he was. When asked if he should be doing this he replied. “Of course, Dinah is the woman of my dreams, I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with her.” Back to you.

Jim

Thanks Jess. Looks like Dinah has thrown her napkin at Stephen’s face, trying to cover his embarrassment.

Mark

That shows that she has some kind of feelings for him.

Jim

That it does. However she seems to be standing up, shaking her head. Stephen is looking around the restaurant almost pleading with Dinah.

Mark

He looks like he is pleading for this moment to end. Poor guy won’t be able to live this down.

Jim

Right you are, Mark. Dinah has now resorted to yelling. Flailing her arms everywhere. What’s she saying Jess?

Jess

Jim it sounds like she is calling him crazy for proposing after a week of dating.

Mark

I’d call it ambitious. You gotta give this guy credit, he is definitely a go-getter.

Jim

Dinah has thrown her hands up in frustration and has proceeded to exit the restaurant in haste. I don’t think she’ll be returning.

Mark

After an insult like that, you don’t ever want to be seen. I wouldn’t be surprised if she moved out of the city altogether.

Jim

It sounds like our field correspondence has met up with Stephen for some last thoughts. Jess?

Jess

I’ve got Stephen here. Stephen, how did you picture this night ending?

Stephen

Well, Jess, you know, I came out tonight and gave it 100%. You know, you picture these things in your mind and you try to get ready mentally and physically but sometimes the other team has different plans.

Jess

Is this going to hamper your chances in the future?

Stephen

Absolutely not. Sometimes you just gotta go back to the drawing board and really look at what worked and what didn’t. I’ll be back next week with a better plan.

Jess

Thanks Stephen. Back to you Jim and Mark.

Jim

Well there you have it. A man with a plan. What do you think could be in store for him Mark?

Mark

Desperate loneliness and sadness, Jim.

Jim

Right you are again. From all of us down here at Olive Garden, we wish you a good night!

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CWE – Alphabet Sentencing

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Alphabet_soup

 

Greetings fellow readers!

It’s been a couple of weeks since my last post. Now I hate to inundate anyone with a constant barrage of posts, but this is plain ridonkulous. I’ll make the excuse that buying a first house and writing a third book really take time away from writing, but alas, they are just excuses.

For this exercise I found a prompt that seemed particularly challenging: Create a short story that is 26 sentences long, each sentence beginning with the next letter of the alphabet.

 

 

All her life she was looked at differently. Be it the color of her hair, or the way her tentacles were shorter than everyone else’s. Contrary to popular belief, however, she was a late bloomer. Dawn’s mother told her that on a regular basis. Everyone around Dawn was fully grown, or at least looked it, and it made her scared to go out in public. Fully aware that life still had to go own, she mustered her courage and got dressed, ready to take on the day. Going outside was always the hardest part. How much longer could she handle the stares and quiet whispers behind her back was something that plagued her everyday. Interesting enough, though, today was different. Judging from the lack of people outside her home and on the street, dawn felt she might actually have a self-conscious free day. Kicking the ground as she walked, trying to keep from drawing attention to herself, Dawn shuffled as fast as she could to her school. Laughter filled her ears and she looked across the street to see her classmates waiting for the bus. Morbid fear gripped Dawn’s stomach as she looked both ways before crossing the street. Never had she gotten on the bus without someone making a comment about her looks or the way she walked and she was hoping that today would be different. Opening the door to the bus, she took a breath and waited for the barrage of insults. Perhaps, finally, today was going to be different. Quelling her fears, Dawn look around and realized no one was paying her any attention. Reaching for the first seat and planting down in it, she looked around to see that everyone was preoccupied with someone else. Seated a few rows back was a new kid. Trying to avoid all the jeers of the others, this student looked scared and alone. Understanding that this was her just yesterday, Dawn made a conscious decision to not sit idly by while the new kid suffered the slings and arrows from the mouths of these infantile bullies. Vivaciously and with purpose, Dawn stood back up and made her way to the new kid. “Welcome,” Dawn said. “Xenophobic bunch we got here, eh?”

Yes, I believe so, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”

Ziegroy is my name, so why don’t you sit down and tell me all about yourself?”

CWE-Astronaut

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Creative Writing Exercise = You are an astronaut. Describe your perfect day.

 

 

 

My perfect day involves me waking up in complete weightlessness. Floating around until I am facing the side window of the shuttle, waiting to see the Sun creeping from behind the Earth to greet me in all its glory. I’d eat an MRE (all of the bacon and eggs) for breakfast and wash it down with some watermelon tang. My perfect day continues in utter quiet and relaxation.

Until the alarm sounds on my audio receiver, sending a cacophonous screech through the cabin. NASA has informed me of an asteroid heading to Earth and I’m the only one who has any chance of stopping it. I swim frantically to my captains chair and strap myself in, firing the ignition thrusters until I slowly orbit around into the path of the asteroid. I glare at the massive shape looming in front of me. It looks like polished rock and the sun glints off it, casting rays of light into my eyes and blinding me for milliseconds. I stare at the hunk of debris sitting stationary in front of me, with no plan whatsoever on how I’m going to stop it. And that’s when I get hit in the gut with a startling realization: The asteroid has stopped moving. completely. I hit the outer lights to the shuttle and effortlessly creep around the rock, trying to examine what’s going on. I slowly venture to the other side and immediately do a spit take (which is really hard to do in zero gravity). There were exhaust ports staring back at me.

This wasn’t an asteroid. It was a ship.

My perfect day had just begun.

If I die.

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So, i’ve been to my fair share of funerals lately, and It got me thinking. When I die, there better be a party. I’m putting this out on the interwebs so that there can be no mistake about what I want to happen when i finally pass on.

I want booze and music and everyone telling funny stories. I’m not talking about the reception that takes place after the giant sob fest at some church i was never a member of, I mean at the memorial. I want people crying because they are laughing so hard at some stupid shenanigan i pulled off years before.

I want a closed casket. Unless technology in embalming has advanced so much that you can have me smiling with my teeth and sporting two thumbs up, I don’t want anyone to see the waxy fake-ness that would become of the postmortem process (unless they plan on actually making me part of a wax museum, which I’m not opposed to at all.)

I want people to be honest. When someone gets up to talk about me and the “Great man I was” I don’t want it filled with facts about my life that were just untrue. “He tried hard to spare all feelings and you could always knew he was a good christian boy.” The person who says that, better be so wasted they can’t feel feelings, or booted out immediately.

Don’t hold any of this in a church. I doubt I’d be allowed in one anyway, but just to make things clear, I don’t want my final place before I get put into the ground to be a place of judgement and repression. (for those of you reading this who disagree and got offended by that last sentence, go into a church and say “fuck” and tell me how that turns out.)

Don’t play Amazing grace or any of those other slow sad gospels unless it is a cover done exceptionally well. Walking on Sunshine has to be played before and after the service. Maybe in the middle too if someone feels so compelled.

Don’t let someone who hasn’t known me most of my life get up and talk. Nothing is more upsetting than to hear someone speak about the recently deceased and know absolutely nothing about them. “I remember when Chris and I fought in ‘nam back in ought 2.” and the whole audience is thinking I’ve lied to them my whole life about my age, and my sanity if I keep friends around who think I fought in a war that didn’t happen in 2002.

Overall, I just want to put the fun in funeral. Death is, of course, something to be sad about, but I think it should also be a celebration of what a person did and how they touched the lives of others, and I think that gets lost in the grief all too often.

So, remember, when I pass on, have fun, drink lots and always keep a little place in your heart for me. Unless you want to be haunted, because, so help me, I plan on haunting someone.