Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #159

Aaron Pogue chose the words today. He is a novelist, a publisher, and a book designer. He provides weekly writing advice at his site Unstressed Syllables, and designs the ebook production process for Consortium Books. He’s also celebrating the meteoric rise of his recently-released fantasy novel Taming Fire on the Amazon Science Fiction and Fantasy bestseller list. (It’s currently at #60).

BET YOU CAN’T do this writing prompt. Take the 10 random words below and, in the comments, crush writer’s block by creating a cohesive, creative short story tying all of them together! And remember: after (if) you finish, highlight your words and click the bold button to make them stand out and help you determine if you forgot any words. (If you’ve missed previous writing prompts, we BET YOU CAN’T do those, either.)

  1. Ecstatic
  2. Luminous – Emitting light, especially emitting self-generated light; Easily comprehended; clear
  3. Cascade
  4. Potential
  5. Happenstance
  6. Chaos
  7. Distraction 
  8. Trend
  9. Schedule
  10. Maniacal – Suggestive of or afflicted with insanity

NOTE: Don’t copy and paste from MS Word. Use a program like notepad that removes formatting or just type in the comment field itself. Also, finish your submission, THEN bold the words. Thanks. (And don’t forget to tweet this and share it with your friends.)

Resources you should check out:
Thesis: Best Damn Theme on the Web
Collective Ink Well: Personalize Your Thesis Theme
Third Tribe Marketing: Marketing done the right way
Story Structure Demystified: Best damn writing book out there


81 Comments on “Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #159”

  1. Shane Arthur says:

    “Hey Billy. I’m damn near maniacal with lust. Look at all these here sexy woman folk at this fraternity party. These girls done gone wild. Theys curves is luminous and they makin’ my Mr. Winky trend upward.”

    “Dat ain’t no happenstance Bobby. They’s barely dressed and what they done got on is skimpy and tight-fittin’. I believe our Pledge Master said they was part of a skit competition, but I ain’t sure what a skit is. I’m just ecstatic to be workin’ the kegs, cause talkin’ to gals is full of drama, angst and chaos, but workin’ the keg makes them just come up to us and treat us like alpha kings.”

    “Pledge Master Arthur said they done scheduled a Reggae band too, so dats gonna make da girls go even wilder.”

    “They’s got an ice luge in the kitchen too. They’s pourin’ vodka down it, and it’s cascadin’ into those purdy girls’ mouths. Pledge Master Arthur said we ain’t allowed to have any al-kee-haul, and iffin we do we’s got the potential to get paddled while goat noises be nearby, so you needs to cause a distraction so’s I can sneak a drink off dat luge. Give me 10 seconds, den cause a scene, okay? Ready, go!”

    “One, two … ah, four … six … ah, fifteen … carry the two …er, six, nine … three …TEN! HEY EVERYONE! DAT GUY BILLY OVER YONDER WIT HIS TONGUE STUCK TO DA LUGE IS GAY!”

  2. margaret says:

    The bride is quite ecstatic
    but let me be emphatic
    when I say that there’s potential
    for chaos not conventional.

    Happenstance led her to this day
    and I just want to say
    that the maniacal wedding planner
    has her schedule on a banner.

    The bride’s face is round and luminous…
    looks like the moon (she’s quite voluminous)
    and her huge floral cascade
    is worth the hefty price she paid.

    I don’t want to sound all mean
    but bridal couples tend to be lean,
    and it will for sure be a distraction
    to have major chubby action!

    For you see, she weighs four hundred pounds
    and as incredulous as it sounds,
    He weighs in at one-0-five
    how is he still alive?

    I curious couple , I know…
    and it will be an interesting show.
    But love brought them together
    though they’re not “birds of a feather”.

  3. Okay, here is my poem for this one.

    Luminous happenstance
    ecstatic eruption from chaos
    welcome potential distraction
    from every maniacal schedule
    trend occurring too infrequently
    sunbeams cascade through windows

  4. Jeanette Ruiz says:

    Her maniacal laugh woke the entire house. It had been three days since Peter had gotten a good night sleep and tonight seemed like it would be no different.  Pushing aside the covers he glanced at the red, bold lights staring back at him.  It happened at the same time every night.  It was 2:30 in the morning and he could hear the cascade of rain falling softly on the trees outside his window.

    He fumbled clumsily for his glasses on the nightstand and grabbed the bottle of pills. She was scheduled to take her medicine every six hours but he had been giving it to her every four hours.  He always kept the pills in a tall, red bottle because his wife warned of the potential of switching his medication for hers. She needed pills to calm her down, he needed the pills to boost him up. He thought of the irony and chuckled. 
    As he walked down the hallway, his mind was luminous with the chaos of recent events. By happenstance, they had discovered that his mother was in the early stages of dementia.  Her distractions usually included quirky notions of wanting to join the circus or study Italian but she had always been an eccentric woman.  She never followed trends or proper parenting.  She was the mother that was ecstatic when her children played in the mud or drew with permanent marker on the walls. 

    “They have to express themselves, “ she would say. “How else will they find their passion if they don’t experiment? Walls can be painted again.  Creativity is fleeting. You need to catch it while you have it.”

    Peter nudged the door with his foot not to startle her.

    “Hi mom, how are you holding up?”

    His mother stared at him as if it was the first time she ever laid eyes on him. She was sitting upright with a huge smile on her face.

    “Peter, remember when you were a kid and we would go outside and play in the rain?  I would show you how wonderful the rain is and how it clears the world from all the bad things and nourishes it at the same time.  I was wondering if I went outside, if it could cure me?”

    Peter sat at the edge of the bed and handed his mother one of her pills.  She grabbed the glass of water on her nightstand and took the medication.  He walked over to the window, pulled up the blinds and opened it.  Rain started to run down the side of the wall.  Peter grabbed a chair and guided his mother over.  He didn’t want to risk her catching a cold, but a little rain wouldn’t hurt her. He sat and watched his mother stick her face out the window and let the rain fall down her cheeks. 

    This was his new life.  The roles were reversed and now it was Peter’s turn to be the eccentric parent.

  5. Sisterhood of the Void – 14th Point

    The Sisters first had to deal with the distraction of the cascade of conscious chaos brought about by First Mother’s Revelation. The creators generally exhibited only the most rudimentary of emotions: joy, fear, wonder and occasional ecstatic outbursts.
    Understanding that happenstance did not define them, they carefully explored the heretofore suppressed feelings of denial, betrayal and rebellion.  Many beats passed before these newly minted emotions were analyzed, completely acknowledged and cataloged as non-constructive. First Sister Ben, the harmonious, paved the way, using her energies to balance the disorderly discord. Thus becalmed, the Sisters turned their attention to Be, thrumming a unanimous rhythm demanding explanation.

    First Mother, half-heartedly continuing in mitochondrial recording mode, began to lay out a densely packed solo pattern. The rhythm permeated the Void, filling the Sisterhood with its essence, if not its meaning:

    “Afetar, uncharacteristically, discounted an important point. She noted that the plasma thrown off by Universe 17 Million plus eight must have created another universe or it must have been consumed. She became so confident in the logical path of Universe 17 Million plus nine that she never back-tracked to explore that other possibility. A possibility which you now know is the reality.

    “Nil sits at the Infinite Boundary, a mindless Golem with but a single purpose: to reclaim the elements. It is she who consumed my two daughters. We honored the horrific covenant of our mother with these crude sacrifices. Nil, even more than I, was so repulsed that, even without consciousness to give voice to her objections, she mutated.”

    Here, First Mother stopped, physically unable to describe the maniacal aberration. Instead, she became metaphorical, comparing cleaving of daughters to the perverted avulsion of specks. The clan was able to learn just enough to realize that anomaly in Atefa’s Bek Realm was their cousin. And that the Void was filled with family.


    Jebubba, Afetar, Neva, Avena, Rekikka and Seninna stared back at Nil. Her baleful, luminous eyes contradicted the absence of sentience within. Yet, this close to her orbit, Nil seemed to pull at them through the protective conscious sheet, as if trying to obliterate their thoughts. The team couldn’t help but feel that they were in the presence of an evil, crafty being.

    Precisely at the moment that the team began showing signs of jealousy and aggression, First Mother’s echoes punched through, confirming Nil’s aversion to consciousness. Nil hardly could have ingested one creator, let alone six. In her blind, mindless fury, she set up a high frequency melodic oscillation. This siren song of destruction was a thousand times stronger than the planet-busting waves that had emanated from the anomaly – her mutant daughter. The conscious sheet was shredding. It wouldn’t hold much longer.


    “Mother, why did you allow our daughters to go out there?” Ber was clearly upset. “Did you sacrifice them, too?”

    “No, beloved daughter. You’re not listening. There has not been a sacrifice since Bel. When Nil mutated, her daughters gained the ability to convert consciousness to not-consciousness – silence. They started a new feeding trend. Unfortunately, Nil lost the ability to create the speck singularities. As her daughters reclaim the elements, they become a larger accretion of super specks. The original specks she created are nearly gone.”

    Ber persisted, “Well, what was the purpose, then?”

    “If there are no more specks, the schedule of creation and reclamation will cease! I had to do something! Jebubba and Afetar have so much creative chemistry. I had hoped – still hope! – that they can figure out how to revert the mutation. I want my sister back!” This last was a rim shot of such anguish that even the anomaly shuddered, though it was still in suspended animation.

    Ber finally relented, “You could have told us all. Perhaps we have potential, too.”

    “Are you saying,” asked an incredulous Bet, “that the Void could return to nothingness?”

    First Mother barked a derisive laugh. “Worse. We’ll all become stagnant, useless, floating entities. Just like my mother.”

  6. Martha says:

    Margaret was ecstatic. The day she had longed for was here. As the mother of the bride, Margaret had aimed for perfection. The church and hall had been decorated, reflecting the latest trend in design. The guest list had posed a few problems, but nothing major that some careful seat assignments couldn’t fix.  Margaret sighed — it was too bad that Maeve and Anna could not  see the potential benefits to the wedding for their own hopes and dreams. As the organ began to peal out the glorious cascade of chords that signaled the Wedding March, the bridal party assembled themselves in the order Erin had decreed on her detailed schedule. Erin had thought of everything; nothing was left to happenstance. Margaret permitted herself a small smile: Anna would say this was a symptom of her sister’s obsessive-compulsive tendencies, but really, who wanted chaos to reign when they had to contend with Maeve? As it was, Margaret prayed there would be no distractions — Maeve had seemed herself this morning, even if she laughed while Erin was struggling with the tiny buttons on her grandmother’s dress. But Margaret had left nothing to chance — that almost maniacal giggle was enough for her to give strict instructions to the bartender. Margaret shook off the anxiety that suddenly clutched her heart with a cold fist. Perhaps she shouldn’t have declined that shot of sherry Aunty Marie had offered. Best to focus on how luminous Erin looked in Nanny Molly’s veil and dress — no one need know how it was made over. It wouldn’t be the first time a baby would be born prematurely in the McCarthy clan. 

    • Jeanette Ruiz says:

      @Martha I remember feeling that angst the day of my wedding.  However, they didn’t need to alter my dress 😉

    • Shane Arthur says:

      @Martha: Fantastic job of hinting to so much drama right under the surface. And the ending was perfect. Write on.

  7. Sean Murphy says:

    Dave hadn’t been happy when Grant had revealed his big plan for crossing the zombie-filled street. Not that Grant himself was ecstatic over the idea, but he tried to keep a positive outlook on life, even post-apocolypse. That and they didn’t have a choice. His brother stood behind him, steadying his legs as he leaned out the window to hook two lengths of chain over the electric cable that lead out over the massed undead below.

    “Remind me again why this is a better idea than, oh, say, growing wings and flying away?” Dave grumbled behind him, shifting his weight to keep them both stable.

    Grant cursed mentally as the distraction nearly caused him to let one of the chains slip. “The cable’s the only way we’re getting out, and it’s too far to crawl. The other side’s attached a little lower, so if we use the chains as a flying fox, we should make it most of the way across before we have to push ourselves along.”

    Dave fell silent in grim concentration as he clambered up onto the window sill behind his brother, feet spread wide to allow them both room to stand as he took the ends of the second set of chains. It might have made more sense to cross one at a time and spread their weight out, but after what they’d been through, neither brother wanted to risk being separated if something went wrong. They would put all their eggs in one basket, and hope for the best.

    “I really hope you know what you’re doing, little brother,” Grant heard as he tried not to look down, gripping his chains tight.

    “Just imagine you’re at summer camp” He shot back over his shoulder, “You never had a problem there.”

    Of course, the luminous blue waters of Lake Tahoe in summer were a lot less likely to see a bomb-diving 21-year old as a snack. Still, there was no point in delaying any longer.

    “Let’s go!” He yelled as he leapt forward into emptiness.

    His hair cascaded backwards in a stream of bronze as the warm midday air suddenly whipped against his face. The rush of speed exhilerated him, and a small part of his mind marvelled that he still had the potential to feel such an emotion. He had all of a second to enjoy it before total chaos broke loose below.

    The moment the jangling, scraping noise of chains sliding down electrical cabling reached the masses below, they reacted with maniacal fury. Faces that had been blankly starring upwards at them now twisted into rage, and the masses that had been loosely shuffling around suddenly rushed to pack the space beneath his feet. Grant’s heart froze in terror, and as an errant twist of the chains showed him a glimpse of his brother, he know he wasn’t alone.

    Looking ahead again, his terror at the display turned to fear for their lives. While the cable had started two stories above ground level, their combined weight was pulling it down into a dip that would end at least 30 feet short of the other side. Worse, a glimpse below showed him that the undead were starting to climb on top of one another in an effort to reach the meat being dangling above them. He could only close his eyes and pray as he slid downwards towards the greedy hands below. He felt himself jerk to a stop as he hit the end of the line, then grunted as Dave’s larger form hit him in the back, twisting them both around and bringing them to a standstill.

    The sudden absence of sound felt physical. As soon as the chains went silent, the noise from below dissipated. Looking down, his eyes were drawn to the upmost zombie on the flesh-pile below them. Almost within reaching distance, the malicious light had left its eyes, and as Grant watched, it stumbled dumbly back towards earth, as if forgetting its purpose all together. Barely able to believe it, Grant rattled his chains together experimentally. In the moment before he dampened them, the vicious light again filled the eyes of the undead below.

    “I’m beginning to see a trend here” He murmured absently to his brother, still panting behind him.

    “If you mean that noise seems to royally piss them off, I see it too” came the winded reply.

    “It certainly seems like more than happenstance. Are you alright? We’re going to have to abandon the chains and crawl the rest of the way up to that window if we want to avoid starting another zombie mosh pit underneath us” Grant quipped, letting his usual humour hide the undertones of true concern.

    “It’s gonna be slow going” was the only reply.

    “Well, unless you made a date with one of the lovely ladies in rags down there, we’re not exactly on a tight schedule” He grinned, always willing to take a dig at his brother’s habit of having a new girlfriend every month.

    “Get moving, short stuff, before I decide to see how well you hold on while being kicked in the ass.” The taunt was a familiar one, and the friendliness in the mocking tone was comforting.

    “Whatever you say, big guy. First one there gets the bed of their choice”

    “Oh goodie”  

    • Jeanette Ruiz says:

      @Sean Murphy “Zombie mosh pit” :)  Why do I picture all of the zombies in shredded three piece suits?  Good stuff!

    • Heh-heh. I’m beginning to enjoy Zombie Apocalpsye stories. This one has me cracking up, with zombies clambering over each other for food.
      I like the mosh pit, too. Very graphic.

    • Shane Arthur says:

      @Sean: I’m enjoying this series too. Your introduction to sound is a great twist. Excited to see where that and this story go.

  8. Anne Wayman says:

    Yikes, I’m late!

    It felt like a unique happenstance. I was ecstatic. The day ahead seemed luminous and full of unstructured potential.

    Without warning my true schedule cascaded, turning my reality into nothing but distraction and chaos.

    I’ve since become almost maniacal in my determination to stop that trend.

  9. Dominica says:

    With a chance of happenstance, I stumbled upon an elderly ecstatic moviegoer one night. His eyes were luminous with joy as he walked alongside me, amongst the theater filled with chaos. He didn’t see the screaming maniacal children running around the place as any distraction at all. He spoke rapidly about the potential of this new movie and his favoritism of the lead actress. I nodded along as we walked to the same movie, him briefly stopping to admire the cascade of flowers covering the newly installed waterfall/art piece. In my mind, he just wanted to slyly stop and catch his breath. Never one to break his movie schedule however, he quickly regained his pace, hoping to get his usual perfect seat.
    As I sat down next to my newfound movie friend, I seemed to notice a personal trend: I make friends with strangers no matter where I go.

    • Cathy Miller says:

      @Dominica-Welcome to CCC!

      We’re ecstatic you joined us and welcome you to this luminous spot on earth where words cascade with the potential of greatness and the potential for so much more. Whether you came by happenstance or from the need to escape the chaos, you are warmly welcomed.

      Let CCC become your new sweet distraction as you join the latest, hottest trend in creativity. So, schedule time for your own personal delight and welcome to the maniacal obsession that is CCC.

    • Shane Arthur says:

      @Dominica: Welcome to the CCC. I loved this 1st submission of yours. Such a cool story, and I hope you continue it.
      What did you think of the exercise?
      Hope to see you every Monday and Thursday too.

  10. Alisa says:

    The empty box of Cascade was just another distraction in a day of chaos. She looked at her schedule, looking for time to run to the store lest she actually be forced to hand wash the dishes before the guests arrived. This had the potential for disaster, particularly considering her sister’s maniacal obsessiveness with spotless dishes.
    Her phone rang. She never answered calls from an unknown number, but for some reason she felt compelled to pick up. “Hello?”
    “I am so ecstatic to hear your voice after all these years!” shouted her college roommate.
    “Oh… wow! Jenny! Hey! I… ” She glanced at her watch — an old-fashioned men’s watch with luminous, radioactive markings on the dial that bucked the fashion trend — and paced nervously. “I’d love to talk, but I’m trying to get ready for a dinner party.”
    “What a crazy, random happenstance!” Jenny practically shouted, quoting Dr. Horrible. “I’m less than a mile from your house and would LOVE to come for dinner!”

    • Jeanette Ruiz says:

      @Alisa. If there were only 28 hours in a day ;)  Good progression of anxiety. I felt her exasperation.

    • Shane Arthur says:

      @Alisa: Ohhh, this could get interesting indeed huh! I hope you continue this. Everything is in place; a woman who bucks trends, an obsessive sister coming over, and old roommate entering the scene. Super stuff.

  11. His maniacal laughter cut through the solitude like a surprise celebration. Crows took flight from the trees in the park, their mass casting a shadow across the midday sun. I looked at my watch. Right on schedule. I had been coming to the park for the past seven days and every single one of those days at exactly 2:33 p.m., the homeless man would come around the corner by the walking bridge with his shopping cart, full to the brim with cans and bottles threatening to cascade over each side.
    “Lunatic!”, I heard someone yell after him. He responded with more laughter. “I love you!”, he shouted to the skies, arms outstretched. I tried to look away before he saw me but he looked right through me into my soul. “We still love you. My father and I.”, he said in a quieter tone, almost reverent. It appeared to me that he became practically luminous, although my inner skeptic thought that it must be a trick of the afternoon sun.
    I initially came to the park as an effort to regain control of my life, to sort out the chaos in my mind. I needed a distraction from the everyday unmanageability of a job I hated, a failing marriage, kids that I was sure were on the path to destruction, and the ever-present hangover that I seemed to be carrying with me everywhere.  Everywhere I looked in the park, yuppies were perfecting their bodies jogging in pairs, dressed in whatever trend happened to be the most popular this week. It seemed like their lives were perfect. I felt complete and utter despair. That first day, sitting on the park bench by myself, I had mentally shifted from trying to sort out the chaos to considering ways to commit suicide.
    I originally thought it was mere happenstance that I came to be at this particular corner that first day at 2:33. Despite my disbelief in “miracles” or “fate”, the more I thought about it, the only potential reasoning I could fathom was that there was some type of higher power commandeering my ship. ‘God’ at work some might say. The disheveled and unkempt man came around the corner and upon seeing me he became ecstatic and overjoyed. I shook with fear, believing I was about to be murdered right then and there by a schizophrenic homeless man in broad daylight. I tried to make my legs move but I was frozen in place. Before I could respond, he had wrapped his arms around me. Expecting the sour smell of body odour and cheap wine, my senses were assaulted by the wonderful smell of wildflowers and fresh cut hay of my youth. An amazing warmth flowed into my heart and peacefulness like nothing I have experienced before settled around my being.
    That first day, all he said was “You will be alright. Have no fear. My father and I love you.” To my surprise, I believe him.

    • Jeanette Ruiz says:

      @Lisa.  I always find it interesting how when we suffer we think we are the only ones. I’m sure those folks running in the latest trends had a million things running through their minds as well.  Nice piece.

      • Thanks @Jeannette! It’s true that suffering and despair thrive in isolation. I’ve always found that anytime I look outside of myself, my own problems become smaller and more manageable. And yes, the ones who look like they have everything all together are usually the ones who are most messed up on the inside. It always amazes me what ideas pop out of a combination of 10 words.

    • Shane Arthur says:

      @Lisa: I’m once again reminded why I missed you so much around here. That made my day. Thank you.

  12. maria says:

     Maniacal laughter cuts through the still office, jarring me from my computer screen. It sounds like Trevor again. That man loses it on schedule, every time we face another financial disaster. As I push away from my desk to check on him, I wonder what pushes him over the edge this time, try to imagine what happenstance has sabotaged his efforts. It’s not hard; each morning brings worse news than the day before.
    I observe him for a moment from his half-open door. He’s kneeling on the floor amidst a sheaf of papers that are strewn about, as if he’s tossed the whole pile in the air in a fit of pique. My heart sinks as I see he’s crying.
    “Here, man, let me help you up.” He ignores my outstretched hand and stares straight ahead.
    Without any inflection, he says, “Marissa left me. Took the baby back to London.” I kneed beside him, waiting. I know he’s taken up online gambling as a distraction. He’s not the first one in this office to snap under the pressure of a financial system that’s outdated and sluggish to change, but I’ll be honest when I say the trend surprises me.
    “She said that the potentiall for chaos outweighed the benefit of living here with me.” We both stand and he looks at me. “How could a benevolent God allow this to happen?” He gestures vaguely around his office, and I know what he means. Not just his situation but the larger whole. We, the privileged few, the insiders in this ridiculous, overfed behemoth, know what’s at stake, what can be lost. American will never be the same, and that knowledge is heavy; costly. With the downgrade of America’s debt rating will come a cascade of failure too immense to calculate. The United States’ era as a world power will come crashing down, and the ecstatic days of our halcyon past with it.
    Trevor’s office is dim, and the dial of my luminous watch says six. He waves me off with an embarrassed thanks and sits behind his desk, a solitary question in the dark, asking no one and everyone the same thing: what will tomorrow bring?

    • Jeanette Ruiz says:

      @Maria.  I work in the financial sector and I have definitely learned to tune things out…  Hence my new CCC obsession.  Great story.

    • Shane Arthur says:

      @Maria: Such a great, great submission. Love it indeed.
      Speaking of financials, I follow this site: http://market-ticker.org/akcs-www?blog=Market-Ticker
      What I like about it is he talks about what nobody else will. AND, he doesn’t care which side of the political isle needs a good ass kicking. Read that site for a month and you may be crying too. 😉

  13. Shane Arthur says:

    programming note: Hey all. I messed my back up again. I know I need to respond to some submissions and a new person joining, but I’ll have to do that hopefully tomorrow. I can hardly sit. Sorry. Be good.

  14. Adam M says:

    “Great, I’m ecstatic for you. Maybe both of you can schedule a time to wipe each other out and let the rest of us live in peace,” I said, looking around. This had the potential to be a very bad meeting, and I didn’t want to stick around to the end. Doing that had shown a trend for being poor for my overall health.
    “I don’t think you comprehend the chaos that they will cause,” first voice said through the loudspeaker, “We don’t think it’s mere happenstance that you’re here at the same time as they.”
    Distraction, distraction, distraction, I needed a distraction. If only the lights aimed towards my handlers and I weren’t so luminous.
    “As it stands, this situation has cascaded out of our control, and you’ve shown yourself to be fairly unhelpful when it comes to bringing things back under it,” said the third voice I. This was coming to an end. Damn lights.
    Damn lights!
    I had to suppress a maniacal giggle. I had my opening.

    • Shane Arthur says:

      @Adam M: That was awesome. I want to know more about what’s going on here. You held back just enough.

  15. Rebecca says:

    Rava had to schedule time with her parents if she wanted to see them. They were never around – work was their distraction. Rava’s room seemed to be a cascade of chaos; shoes and clothes were everywhere. Her mom becomes maniacal when everything isn’t in its place. Talk about a page out of an OCD pamphlet. She’s ecstatic about new closet organizers that recently came on the market. After all, organization is her business.

    Rava wasn’t the typical high school student who followed every single trend. She prefers clothes with a luminous feel to them versus a dark, grungy heaviness. That is, until, James Colt transferred into Garfield High School. He has the potential to become a dangerous liaison. Of course, his darkness is tantalizing to all the girls at Garfield High. He wasn’t a typical teenaged, preppy boy from Rosefield. It wasn’t a happenstance that James transferred to Garfield High School. He’s been watching Rava and her friends for months.

    • Shane Arthur says:

      @Rebecca: OHH MY!  That ending was something else. You nailed that one. I want to know where this is going.

    • Jeanette Ruiz says:

      @Rebecca.  I wanted to keep reading..who is this mysterious James Colt?  I hope you continue this.

  16. Hana Frank says:

    We’re on a tight schedule, but I need to find the Ladies. And when I come back he’s got Captain Jack gagged and chained to a post. For some reason he’s incapable of killing off the Good Guy with one tiny bullet; that would be fast, fail-safe, cheap. But no, the moron has to spend our hard earned booty on theatrics.

    I catch him in the middle of the usual maniacal laugh. I should tape that sound sometime and play it back, so he can hear just how embarrassing he is.

    This time he’s engineered a cascade effect of sharp knives set into the wall. Must be thousands of them. I see a luminous clock face and wires going into the wall. There’s always a timer, so the hero has the potential to figure a way out. And the hero always does.

    Does he think it’s just happenstance there’s always a posse of cops right on our heels ?
    I imagine the peak hour traffic chaos and frantic police calls happening right now. I beg him to use a gun okay ? But I’m just a minor distraction. He keeps on fiddling with leavers and pulleys, his face ecstatic.

    And it occurs to me there’s a definite trend for the good guy to win out in the end. The pay isn’t fantastic, but you don’t have to stay on the run or worry about jail time. Maybe it’s time to switch sides.

    When I drive away the cops are already surrounding the building.

    • Shane Arthur says:

      @Hana: FANTASTIC! Welcome to the CCC. I loved this 1st submission of yours. You have a great writing style. I know everyone will love you here, so I hope to see you each Monday and Thursday. Everyone welcome Hana to the addiction.

      • Cathy Miller says:

        @Hana-Welcome to CCC-sorry for the late entry

        You’ll feel ecstatic when Monday rolls around and how often have you thought that? But, you know what others don’t, Mondays signal another CCC challenge, leaving your spirit luminous.

        Ideas and thoughts cascade through your mind as you see the potential in another week’s challenge. It’s no mere happenstance that here you find some of the greatest writing on the internet. We remove the chaos of doubt and distraction and add to the creative trend. Your schedule is not complete until you visit again with the maniacal glee of the truly possessed.


    • Jeanette Ruiz says:

      @Hana Frank. This is such an interesting perspective.  Good work. Welcome to CCC 🙂

  17. Anna Ellis says:

    @Shane, hope you’re ok.
    I have a fascination with sonnets, hence this attempt:
    Ecstatic are my thoughts when they’re in bed –
    Potential chaos thwarted whilst they sleep.
    I love my twins but friends have often said
    I’d have less mess if I’d adopted sheep!
    Now ovine twins may well start up a trend,
    With certain fame (I wish!) pure happenstance.
    Yet lambs could not provide that love unpenned
    Nor cascade joy that finds no resistance.
    They wake! I hear that laugh maniacal
    That tells me – they’ve found a new distraction.
    The last time I heard that nightly cackle,
    They’d put the next door’s kitty into traction.
    My schedule gone, my temper luminous
    I threaten both with brunch leguminous.

  18. Rebecca says:

    @ Shane … Lol! I haven’t decided if I’ll develop this into a YA novel or one of my another idea. Either way, I need to start writing. =)

  19. Rebecca says:

    @ Jeanette … Thank you! I will continue the story. I need to create an outline and plot. 🙂

  20. Rev. Criss says:

    We so desperately wanted to stay on-schedule, but chaos has its way, doesn’t it?

    It was just a momentary distraction, pure happenstance, the phone making its maniacal chirps ecstatic in its news that a call was attempting to come through.  My husband at the wheel of the car, took a quick glance down at the luminous screen to see whether the caller-ID had anything important to say.  I glanced there too, unable to resist the trend to be in-the-know.  The road was straight, no one was around, there was no potential for harm.

    Then a cascade of events, my husband looks up, the car swerves, the brakes cause me to jolt against the seatbelt, the car skids out.  I am confused, the white furry tail shone brief in the headlights, and the car skids off the embankment.  What was that golden retriever doing on the road?

    We’re in the trench next to the side of the road.  No one was hurt, but our rendezvous with friends at Niagara Falls would be delayed.  My husband sighed, cursing about deer (deer?), and reached for his phone to call for help.

    • Shane Arthur says:

      @Rev. Chriss: Welcome to the CCC. I can tell you’ll fit in quite nicely here. I like your style and I know the others will too.
      Hope to see you here each Monday and Thursday. What did you think of the exercise?

      Everyone welcome Chris. I’m adding your name and url to the CCC Community Links page now.

      P.S. Sorry for the moderation delay. It’s been crazy lately for me.

      • Cathy Miller says:

        @Rev. Criss-Welcome to CCC!
        The ecstatic welcome you hear is the norm at this luminous spot known as CCC. The praise will cascade down around you as you enjoy the potential inside.

        Whether you came by way of pure happenstance ot someone led the way, you are always welcome to leave the chaos and daily distraction behind and follow the word trend toward greatness. So, clear your schedule from its maniacal hold and enjoy the land of creativity.


      • Rev. Criss says:

        Thanks for the welcome 🙂  I thought the exercises were good.  Need to stretch my brain sometimes and this reminds me of creative writing classes, in a good way.  Look forward to participating, but life is crazy here too, so I’ll likely pop in and out.

  21. Kelly says:


    Happenstance happiness
    Luminous loveliness
    Devilish distractions are
    Cascades of curls like yours

    I am ecstatic when
    Scheduled to see you
    A wait is advisable, but
    Makes me maniacal

    If  trends are terrific
    I don’t want to hear it
    I’m craving chaos, now
    Slaying that sacred cow
    Potential for pain
    Is starting to wane
    I’m trying not to
    Let on to you-know-who

    I don’t want my doctor
    To tell my chiro-
    This terrible rhyme
    Means I Wish You’d Be Mine

    O,  chiro’s masseuse–
    It’s sure not abuse
    To dream of us breeding
    As your fingers are kneading

    Is it?

  22. […] Challenge from Creative Copy Challenge His maniacal laughter cut through the solitude like a surprise celebration. Crows took flight from […]

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