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Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #339

Posted: June 3, 2014 | Author: | Filed under: Copy Challenges | Tags: |126 Comments

These 10 words have been chosen randomly from a chapter of Ann Villier’s book, Gorgeous Daring Dames. Somehow I don’t think you will be using them in quite the way she did.

Let your imaginations soar and kick your writer’s block to the kerb.

This is a writing prompt. Bet you can’t do it! Take the 10 random words below and crush writer’s block by creating a cohesive, creative short story! And remember: after (if) you finish entering your submission into the comment field, 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.) NOTE: Our bolding plugin is gone, so you’ll have to put <b> and </b> around each of your words if you want them to stand out, but NOT REQUIRED THOUGH.

  1. Challenge
  2. Landscape
  3. Familiarity
  4. Sheepskin
  5. Perimeter
  6. Unknown
  7. Confidence
  8. Swamp
  9. Actions
  10. Directing

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.)

 

126 Comments on “Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #339”

  1. Tanja Cilia says:
    June 3, 2014 at 12:18 pm

    Familiarity had bred contempt. The unknown, originally taken in his stride as a challenge, had lost its allure. He was Monarch of all he surveyed, directing the actions of his minions as if they were puppets on a chain. The landscape, dotted with purple trees, was his reign. Beyond the perimeter of his sway, to the East, was the sacrificial swamp. Clad in the ceremonial sheepskin, he exhibited a confidence that was more bravado than poise.

    Reply
  2. delphiusbogue says:
    June 3, 2014 at 12:40 pm

    Blackness turned to grey as the sun rose over the blighted landscape, Chandroc the fisherman pulled his sheepskin jacket tighter around his shoulders to ward off the dawn chill. Today would be the day. The fish would come today. They had to.

    Chandroc’s confidence was waning, the challenge of feeding his family, much less the challenge of scraping out a living from the sea was directing his actions into the unknown. He was going to find the fish today. Sighing and looking up at the clear sky he boarded his small boat, checked his nets and then his bait with a familiarity bred of countless days of doing the same.

    Finally, as the sun broke the horizon, he was satisfied. His calloused hands picked up the worn wood of the oars and placed them in the oarlocks as he had done time and time before. As he gripped the smooth, worn wood of the oar handles, he said his silent prayer to the gods and began to row.

    Today he would row farther than usual, farther than the other boats, farther than he should, right to the perimeter of the black swamp, and the unknown terrors within. Today the fish would be his. Today his family would eat, today his wife would have fresh flour, and maybe some of the sweet tea that she so loved, but got so rarely. Today Chandroc the fisherman would return triumphant. Today was his day.

    Reply
  3. Kelly says:
    June 3, 2014 at 12:57 pm

    WORLDVIEWS

    Do you remember the first time we went ballooning?

    You used up quite a few of your cell-phone minutes murmuring late at night, about how much I’d like it. About how I’d be safe with you.

    We’d only been dating for a few weeks, and I remember thinking that everything about you was still a big unknown to me. That letting go of the edge of the Earth was not how I wanted to test my mettle, or our interest in each other. That I’d rather put on my sheepskin slippers than a parachute any day.

    That your voice was the roughest silk, warmth edged with lightning that I always wanted near my ear. Ring, telephone, and let me be convinced into anything. Slowly.

    It wasn’t the challenge that got me. I’m not the least competitive, and a dare is more likely to stall me than to entice me. It wasn’t your insistence that I’d enjoy the adventure and be amazed at the way the landscape opens up in a majestic show for the brave. I had equal confidence that I’d be sick and too miserable to look around—and you have to admit, on that point I actually won.

    It was the metaphor. I’m a sucker for hidden meaning, for accidental peeks down deep into our souls. Your choice of obsession— “I must get her flying!” —and my choice of sticking point— “I must cloak myself in familiarity!” —finally burst upon me in one firework-like aha! moment, one night as you drove me home.

    It felt silly, going home, closing down my perimeter, knowing you’d call in an hour and we’d talk half the night away.

    I was swamped with work, and you were used to being alone. Yet you were always trying to draw me near, and just like you, I was neglecting anything and everything to sink into your ideas, your arms, your worldview.

    Worldviews…

    Actions really do speak louder than words. I had no intention of being coy and you didn’t mean to play Don Juan, yet here it all was in a semi-comc dance of old. Enough was enough. I’d need to do a little calling of the shots.

    Well, I only said, “Okay. I’ll try it.” Maybe not much for a first directing effort, but it was a turning point. Romance is a lot bigger than role-playing when we step out of costume.

    I had some motion-sickness like you could not believe, and you’ll never get me up in a balloon again. No regrets, though—it’s been a rocketship ever since that day.

    I’m standing on top of the moon in my slippers, rough silk whispering against my skin, and there are two of us reaching out toward the sun.

    Reply
    • delphiusbogue says:
      June 3, 2014 at 1:38 pm

      Nice one Kelly! I have missed your writing and I didn’t even realize it. Glad to see you back

      Reply
      • Kelly says:
        June 3, 2014 at 2:55 pm

        Aw, thanks! Life gets in the way… if you’ve got my life anyway. *sigh* But I miss the CCC a lot when I can’t keep up with it, and I’m raring to go ’til life laughs and tells me it has other plans. Let’s hope that’s a while from now. 🙂

        Reply
    • Steve Costello says:
      June 3, 2014 at 2:08 pm

      My wife is always trying to get me up in a balloon, but I think after reading your submission, I will stay on the ground.

      Reply
      • Kelly says:
        June 3, 2014 at 2:58 pm

        LOL I agree, Steve. I’m afraid the balloon is a standin for other adventures in this story, because a balloon is someplace you will not EVER see me. *shudders*

        Reply
    • Anklebuster says:
      June 3, 2014 at 2:58 pm

      Kelly of the Contrasts! Welcome back, you lovely writer!

      Cheers,

      Mitch

      Reply
      • Kelly says:
        June 3, 2014 at 2:59 pm

        Thanks, Mitch of the Mighty Pen! If only I were able to be more consistent with my favorite addiction!!!

        Reply
    • bbanne says:
      June 4, 2014 at 12:46 am

      Your last sentence is a doozy. Love it. Love it all. But I think I’ll keep to my sheepskin slippers, thanks. 🙂

      Reply
    • Cathy Miller says:
      June 4, 2014 at 9:28 am

      Yay, Kelly! It’s been so long. Glad to see you (and your powerful entries) and CCC are back! Yay again!! ☺☺☺ Love this I’m standing on top of the moon in my slippers, rough silk whispering against my skin, and there are two of us reaching out toward the sun Classic Kelly!

      Reply
      • Kelly says:
        June 12, 2014 at 10:44 am

        Aw, thanks Cathy! Darn I love this place for the firecrackers it lights in my brain and the awesome people who show up here. Nice to give it another go. 🙂

        Reply
    • KathleenK says:
      June 5, 2014 at 8:50 am

      Hello there Kelly!
      “.. your voice … roughest silk… I really like this choice of description, I keep trying to hear this, as if I already know the voice myself.

      And such a whimsical ditty you have shown us here!

      Good to see you back,
      Kathleen

      Reply
      • Kelly says:
        June 12, 2014 at 10:46 am

        Thank you, Kathleen. It’s a wonderful voice, the kind I seem drawn to. Glad it left you trying to hear it!!

        Reply
  4. Steve Costello says:
    June 3, 2014 at 1:57 pm

    As he was walking around the perimeter of the swamp, Jesse had a sense of familiarity with the landscape before him, a kind of déjà vu.

    It was very cold, cold enough that he was glad he was wearing his sheepskin jacket. There were no signposts directing him to the easiest way around this previously unknown region. As far as he could tell, no one had been here before him in a long time.

    He reflected on his earlier adventures and determined that this couldn’t be any harder than earlier quests on which he had to navigate a seemingly endless desert, or crossing the lava filled canyon.

    As these thoughts came to him his actions became more determined, and shortly he spotted an abandoned skiff, which he used to pole himself and his supplies to the other side of the bog.

    Moral:

    Confidence is sometimes more important than knowledge when completing a challenge.

    Reply
  5. Anklebuster says:
    June 3, 2014 at 2:47 pm

    Swan Vee considered her options. The ink was barely dry on the sheepskin before her mentor banished her from Swamp Logos. Her home since birth, the swamp represented the womb of familiarity, the hearth of confidence and the shield against the unknown. Now she was ready to deal with the landscape beyond the Perimeter. She sauntered.

    Swoop Caliente watched the pretty girl in the distance. He tried to control his growing excitement at the prospect of snagging one of the swamp sophists. Tired of directing moronic soldiers on the parade grounds of Swamp Campo de Batalla, Swoop hungered for the mental challenge of a Sun Tzu campaign. Yet, because of the idiotic and unfair lifetime ban from the Academy, his actions were restricted to the blasted no-mans zone that separated the wetlands. He waited.

    Reply
  6. KathleenK says:
    June 3, 2014 at 8:51 pm

    “I will admit it has been a challenge braving the landscape of my pages without the familiarityof the Creative Challenge family. I have missed you all so. I have used a sheepskin to clean my monitor screen, all the way out to its perimeter, but I could not see you all well enough even if you have been on my mind frequently. But write I have, published I have been, and due to some unknown confidence I have made it through the swamp’s muck and Meyer of life. The actions of others are directing not only my “pen”, but the officers of the law.

    And for those who know me… know there is much to update yah’ll on, and those that don’t – hold on for wild ride many a true tale will be weaved throughout these posts, some more creative than others. But thanks to Anne were are back on our way.

    Reply
  7. bbanne says:
    June 4, 2014 at 1:19 am

    His sun-baked fingers trailed round the perimeter of her lips with a familiarity that no stranger should have. She lay back on the bed, her body a landscape of contrasts, at once known and unknown to him. Arching her back, she stretched sensuously, her actions directing his gaze towards the bare skin of her belly. She reached out and touched the tight, white curls that swathed his head like sheepskin. He was no challenge to her. With supreme confidence she pulled him towards her, and took him deep into her swamp of blankets and passion…

    Reply
  8. Bogged Down | nightmare of daytime says:
    June 4, 2014 at 7:34 am

    […] Writing Prompts – Creative Copy Challenge #339 […]

    Reply
  9. zennjennc says:
    June 4, 2014 at 7:35 am

    Bogged Down

    Bogged Down

    It was going to be a challenge to build this land into something marketable, but Jack had confidence he could accomplish the task of directing the construction crews and make this desolate bog come alive. Jack surveyed the perimeter of the overgrown, damp landscape with familiarity. He grew up near here. He remembered dressing in sheepskin and chasing his sister to the creek, teasing her about getting eaten by an swamp monster. He paused a moment to remember to his sister, who had wandered down to the creek had been killed by an unknown assailant. Jack had wondered if his own actions in continually chasing her down to the creek had resulted in her death. He would not have long to wonder as a man with greying beard and blackened teeth appeared from nowhere out of the petrified trees.

    With a pipe in his hand, he struck Jack on the head with deadly force, “My land.”

    -Word Count: 156-

    Reply
  10. Cathy Miller says:
    June 4, 2014 at 9:23 am

    The challenge began. Over a landscape littered with weeping souls, Malcolm crept along shadows that saw too much. He wore his familiarity with death like a sheepskin past its prime.

    A perimeter of hope had taken an unknown turn towards fate, robbing him of the cocky confidence of youth. Malcolm trudged on, barely acknowledging the oozing presence of a swamp of questionable depth and despair.

    His actions brought him closer. Closer to destiny. Directing him to all he lost.

    “Malcolm Michael Foster, get off that video game right now and do your homework!”

    “Aw, Moooom.”

    Reply
  11. bbanne says:
    June 4, 2014 at 5:30 pm

    The wonderful thing about being on the other side of the world is that when I get up in the morning, I am greeted by so much action here that I can’t help but be excited by the day. Welcome home everyone.

    Reply
  12. Shane Arthur says:
    June 6, 2014 at 10:32 am

    OH. MY. GOD!!!!!
    I am taken aback by seeing this up and running again, and seeing all your faces and submissions again. It’s such a tremendously great thing to see, and yet a sad thing too, as I’m like the old grandpa who loves seeing his grand kids run around, but knows his body won’t allow him to join the fun. I miss all you guys and I’m holding back the emotions of seeing you all do this again. You all are a wonderful group of people. Miss ya and love ya all. I may not have time to participate again, but I will be peeping in and doing my best to keep up.

    Reply
    • Kelly says:
      June 6, 2014 at 10:38 am

      {{{hugs}}}

      I think of you often, Shane. You are missed.

      Reply
    • kathleenMK says:
      June 6, 2014 at 12:28 pm

      Shane!!!! There your are my friend!
      Hhhhhhhhhhheeeeeeeeeeeelllllllllllllooooooooooo gpaw! Hug that beautiful boy of yours and know it is a hug from me and many of us out here in your family!

      You started something addicting. And, ironically, as I noted in a previous post, I was getting ready to send you and email to ask permission to start this up again when 24 hours later I got the note from Anne!

      Peep… along.

      Reply
    • Steve Costello says:
      June 6, 2014 at 12:40 pm

      @Shane
      I can understand the time to not participate, but sure would like you to check in every once in a while, and let us know how you and yours are doing.

      Reply
    • Justin Matthews says:
      June 6, 2014 at 3:01 pm

      Howdy Shane! it is great to see you back around, it has been a long time. This site is like a legal form of crack….you can get off of it for a while but some day you just need it again, and again and then can’t get enough. If you are the Grandpa, we still love you and will put you in the best home available. We can start a “put shane in the virtual rest home” kickstarter…
      🙂 Just keep checking in once in a while.
      -Justin

      Reply
    • Cathy Miller says:
      June 6, 2014 at 3:17 pm

      Shane, if you’re the grandpa, I shudder to think where that puts me. 😉 We owe you a world of thanks, good buddy!

      Reply
    • bbanne says:
      June 7, 2014 at 1:15 am

      Pretty impressive turn out, isn’t it? And how well everyone has slipped back into the challenge. I’m so pleased to see the fabulous writing styles that i remember so well, and discover some new ones. Thanks for letting me have a play here, Shane 🙂

      Reply
  13. Cathy Miller says:
    June 6, 2014 at 3:16 pm

    Uh, I guess I choked on the last of my laugh – LOL 😀

    Reply
  14. Eric Bolton says:
    June 6, 2014 at 3:58 pm

    Thirty-six hours . Thirty-six hours. It’s only been thirty-six hours since everything went to crap. Thirty-six hours since everyone started going crazy. It’s been thirty-six house since all long distance communication ceased. It’s been thirty-six hours since soldier turned on soldier, commanders turned on subordinates and friends turned on friends.

    It’s been thirty-six hours since the Naval base in Corpus Christi fell and thirty-six hours since Daniels started running.

    He tried calling Leslie right away, but apparently they took out long distance communication too.

    He rested an hour or two during the night in a swamp between the base and his home outside Victoria. He made sure he stayed away from the main highways and small towns. He couldn’t risk running into any of the infected. Society was now an unknown landscape and his only mission was to get home to his wife and kids.

    The confidence they were okay was the compass directing his actions.

    Daniels approached the tree line perimeter around his property. The next challenge would be to make it across the open field without an incident. Slaughtered animals were picked apart by buzzards. Cow carcasses, goat parts and bloody torn sheepskin littered the field. He didn’t see anyone walking around. It was too far to the house to see inside. If Leslie did what he taught her, she would be in the storm cellar.

    Even though It would be easier to advance in the dark, he couldn’t risk another two hours. He grew up here. His familiarity with this place is why he brought his new family back here when his father died. This is where he finally felt safe.

    It was now or never. Daniels holstered his .45 and brought his .19 millimeter around front. He said a prayer hoping the past thirty-six hours have been kind to his family, and began running across his field.

    Reply
  15. bbanne says:
    June 7, 2014 at 1:18 am

    Ahh! You can’t stop there! What happened? Did he make it? You’re like the genius of tease, Eric. 🙂

    Reply
  16. shanearthur says:
    June 9, 2014 at 9:05 pm

    “Hey Billy! You’s directin the actions so tells me what I needs to do next. My familiar-hairy-tee with dis stuff is is as hairy as a bald man.”

    “Bobby, directin’ dis here porno “Swamp Guzzlin’ Grandmas” is enough of a challenge without you lookin into da camera. Look into da unknown landscape somewhere’s odder den da lens, put da sheepskin rub-her around da perimeter of your slappy and get to drillin’ that there hot and heavy grandma on da hammock. And remember; da ladies love confidence in da mens. It’ll get these old gals wetter den talcum powder.

    Reply
  17. bbanne says:
    June 9, 2014 at 11:38 pm

    Swamp Guzzlin’ Grandmas? haha,I don’t think I can unsee this! And I saw it very clearly. You have such a way with words, Shane. It’s so very good to read your tales again. 🙂

    Reply
  18. Cathy Miller says:
    June 10, 2014 at 9:46 am

    @ShaneArthur I see the time off hasn’t dampened Billy & Bobby’s spirit. So to speak. 😉

    Reply
  19. shanearthurccc says:
    June 10, 2014 at 10:03 am

    I had a blast with this one. It’s as if Bobby and Billy were hiding inside these words the whole time and waiting for me to join the party. I scanned the word list, but not until like the 4th time did I notice the word “Swamp.” That triggered it and I just had to write something. The magic is always there in the words. We just have to listen closely for it. And I was laughing out loud the whole time I wrote this. I swear I don’t know how my mind comes up with this sh!t. 🙂

    Reply
  20. Liss Thomas says:
    July 2, 2014 at 5:24 pm

    Whoo Hoo! CCC Rises!!!!!

    I stood surveying the familiarity of the landscape as its rustic peaks towered above me. My actions in response to an uknown challenge that swamped all thought until its completion. Discarding my skeepskin lined jacket, I took to the near vertical rock face with confidence. The climb took hours and sweat made my fingers dangerously slick but as I surveyed the perimeter of the sheer rockface, I knew what had been directing me forward. They said I couldn’t do it. A smile creased my face and a laugh escaped me. I pushed myself forward, dangling from crazy heights until my fingers dug into the flat top of the formidable rockmass. I stood with a warming breeze kissing my face and posed for a selfie at the top of the world.

    Reply

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