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 Posted: Wed Aug 01, 2007 9:40 am
Prize: 1000 gold for first place, 500 for second place.
Deadline: Wednesday 8th August, 5:00 PM London time Due to the nature of my life I may be a little late but I promise not to close it early. I'll be accepting entries right up until I post the winners. This is a good website for finding London time: http://www.timeanddate.com/worldclock/
The Rules (dun-dun-duuuuuuuuuun!!!):
I give you a sentence, you write the rest of the paragraph. Just the paragraph, not the rest of the story, please. The paragraph must be 60-150 words long, not including the provided sentence. Writing must be original fiction (ie, not fanfiction), any genre is permitted. No graphic sex, swearing is permitted but must be partially blanked (eg. sh*t). Homosexuality is permitted. No text talk, please. You can post comments on entries here as well, but no flaming or spamming.
Conversation is permitted as long as the new line opens with speech marks. Eg, new line: ““Blah blah”, he said, sitting.” Would be permitted, but new line: “He sat. “Blah blah”, he said” Would not.
The first sentence must be:
He cast his eyes around the room.
You may not alter this sentence.
Only one entry per user. If you want to change your entry notify me by PM.
Here's what you have to do to enter:
PM me a copy of the paragraph you enter, and post another copy here. I'll post the winner here at the given time and also notify them by PM. If you do not PM me your entry I may or may not notice it. I don't want to not give a really good entry the prize it deserved because I didn't notice it.
Good luck to you all!
I'm trying to get more publicity for this so if you know anyone else who might like to enter then please tell them! Thankee!
The Guild of Competitive Writers is up! Yay! I need people to join, so please, let people know about it. If you want to advertise, Zenai_Metos makes my banners so ask him and he’ll give you a copy of one for your sig!
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Posted: Wed Aug 01, 2007 10:33 am
Based on a true story.
146 words including first sentence.Quote: He cast his eyes around the room. Where am I? he thought, turning his gaze this way and that. The walls were painted blue; the ceiling and floor were swallowed by the colour of his fearful eyes. One second he was bouncing safely in his father's truck, holding his hand to his head while the air became musky and difficult to breathe--now, he is here. A lady walked up to him, telling him that it was not his time, and that he must return. He recognized this woman as his grandmother, frail and weak--yet her voice was embellished with a thin lining of power and strength; she seemed unfamiliar yet comforting. She began to float away, a voice reverberating through the boy's mind, I want to stay; please don't send me back. And he woke up in a patient's cot, his hand on his head.
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Posted: Thu Aug 02, 2007 8:18 am
He cast his eyes around the room. It was lined with shelves stuffed with books and armchairs draped with sheets. A glass coffee table sat in the middle of the study, covered with glass bottles – spilled, empty, full – upon a Persian rug that garnished the floor. A great mahogany bureau sat in the corner, littered with papers from newsprint to telegrams and blank pages. How was he ever to find what Mr. Laverstin had requested? His office was a mess, and Kalan had difficulty trudging through the clutter to search about the room.
Being so filthy rich you’d think he’d hire a maid, he thought. But he couldn’t complain about the much inconvenient disarray that lay before him. Kalan moved to the desk, and filed through the papers. He shuffled through its drawers, shoving them back in afterwards. He slid out one last drawer, and its content caught his eye.
150 words.
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Posted: Thu Aug 02, 2007 12:15 pm
He cast his eyes around the room. The blood was everywhere, on the walls, floor, and all over the furniture. It looks like a gang killing, Trey cringed, he could see a body to his left and a child to the right, and both were killed horribly. I can’t sense any life in here… apparently the vampires had their fun. Trey took another glance around the room before leaving the house. The death toll was now 152; it was time to get some help.
over it's 83 words but without the first sentence its 77.
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Posted: Thu Aug 02, 2007 8:42 pm
Word Count: 138
He cast his eyes around the room. It was dimly lit. The scent of incense assaulted his nostrils before he could take in his first breath. Gypsies had come into town. Ronald was surprised that gypsies even still existed but apparently they did, for here he was, walking into the fortune teller’s tent. “Hi… I got something strange from you. I think you sent it to the wrong person. It’s a weird card, with the word death on it. Must have been meant for some one else.” Jewels could be heard clinking together by each movement the gypsy made. “There was no mistake Ronald.” Her sultry, fine mannered voice came from behind two pillar candles that sat on the table. Watching everything, he suddenly wondered if he shouldn’t turn tail and run. What had he walked in on?
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Posted: Fri Aug 03, 2007 2:22 am
He cast his eyes around the room. If he strained, he could just discern the outline of the window, or the rectangle of the light overhead, or the shape of some anonymous nurse or doctor who had come in to change his bandages. Again. He'd lost track of the time long ago, had stopped counting between the tenth and fiftieth instances of empty reassurance. His sight was gone for good, forever. When he was young, his parents had said they’d love him forever. Forever had been comforting, safe. Now he thought that forever was maybe the most horrifying word he’d ever heard of.
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Posted: Fri Aug 03, 2007 5:23 am
Hey Annetia, I was thinking... Maybe three days (or some odd other day) after the winners of the contest have been announced, the thread owner renames the title of the contest: OVER (Poetry/Prose).
That way, people can easily tell which contests are over and they don't go into the wrong thread and enter a contest that isn’t taking entries.
- Sent to Suggestion Forum
He cast his eyes around the room. Tall metallic figures stood lifelessly in daunting poses. He had to wonder how the medieval blacksmiths made them to fit every knight. They were poised in stolid stances, holding weapons that looked as if a person sat inside all day just dreaming of weapons that will cause as much mutilation in the least amount of time. He wandered aimlessly around the room, looking for the perfect one. A look of delight crossed his face as he came to stand in front of a particularly intimidating suit of armor, which had intricate carvings of a snake and a dragon in combat on the breast plate. The metal was pitch black and faded into a silvery tarnish on the sides. He placed his hands upon it, and for a fleeting moment, nothing happened. Then the figure began to shine with an Inner Light, and it promptly stepped off its platform. He smiled.
Word Count: 150 (excluding sentence)
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Posted: Fri Aug 03, 2007 9:38 am
He cast his eyes around the room. “Why do you want me here?” The young girl simply shook her head as if she couldn’t tell him and smiled. He stared at her with his vibrant blue eyes as his wings shook with a sense of urgency to go back home. His mind was racked with possibilities as to why they brought him back down here. Did I do something wrong? Am I banished? After a few minutes of watching the little girl she nodded. His eyes grew wide and he immediately bowed. “Thank you. I won’t let you down as the world’s Shadowed Guardian Angel.”
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Posted: Fri Aug 03, 2007 2:37 pm
He cast his eyes around the room. And then threw out his liver, too. The wolves loved that, not to mention the snakes and the other carnivorous beasts around with their flashing bulbs and pens at the ready. He swallowed hard, seemed like his tongue was sliding down his esophagus now. Did they take his lungs, too? It felt that way and he can't breathe so well. He can see them ready try to pick at his brain, like little birds with their beady eyes and sharp beaks. What will they devour next? Maybe his trembling hands, crumpling up his speech. Better yet, his throat so he won't have to do this anymore. He coughed once and was surprised his heart didn't come flying out for the people in the front row to eat with their dainty little silver forks. Oh, so they do have hearts, they will say. He really shouldn't have gotten into politics.
(149/150)
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Posted: Fri Aug 03, 2007 7:53 pm
He cast his eyes around the room. He was in what appeared to be an ancient museum. Rubble of once-magnificent sculptures and works of art were strewn about the place. What remained standing was slowly crumbling to join the fallen on the floor. Apart from that, the place was a wonder to behold. The architecture resembled that of an old Gothic cathedral, but this place appeared to be much more ancient by hundreds, if not thousands, of years. The tarnished silver guardians that perched atop aging stone shelves took the forms of wolves, dragons, wyrms, valkyries, gorgons, and many more creatures, some of which were strange and alien. Strangely, their glittering gemstone eyes seemed to follow Tyr.
"Why lead me here?" Tyr asked himself. There was no answer from the silent invisible spectre floating beside him. The dead elf woman merely strode deeper into the ruin.
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Posted: Sun Aug 05, 2007 10:03 pm
Ack! I haven't written mine yet!!! I'll hopefully get it up tomorrow! ^_^ Must not forget!
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Posted: Tue Aug 07, 2007 6:21 am
_______He cast his eyes around the room. So many memories were here, too little time to remember. The walls, reminiscent of the colour of her golden hair, were peeling along its base. The brown leather sofa in the middle of the room, where they first made love, sat in tatters as it was fed upon by time. Dust fairies danced in a thin stream of light coming from the open window, which was partially blocked out by a broken bookshelf. He opened his knapsack and took out the red can within it, spreading its contents around the room. Like the way his love’s body burned within the furnace, so would the contents of their house. He would bring some of the ashes to her resting place, to give her a piece of where her heart was. Where their heart was, and would always reside; his final gift to his now missing half. He lit the match…
My old one was a little long, but this one fits within the word limit..
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Posted: Tue Aug 07, 2007 2:59 pm
Thank goodness, I made it in time. I don't know why, but I almost forgot this entirely! But here it is! ^_^ Sorry for more depression... sweatdrop
Word Count: 150 (minus given sentence)
~
He cast his eyes around the room. This used to be his sanctuary, but had become his prison. It’d been three years, and still Aeryn remained confined to his room, trapped by four walls and forbidden from leaving the castle grounds. Every month his heart would guide him back to the sea to wait for Rynil by the light of the moon, but every dawn he would turn away with his heart a little heavier than it had been before. Thirty-six moons he’d been waiting for any sign of his beloved. After so long, the hope Aeryn lived by was slowly dying and with it, so was he. He had seen it before, Elves being consumed by a broken heart. Most lost their lives, others their sanity, and Aeryn would welcome either as long as it took away the pain. He could barely rise from bed in the morning. He hated being alone, and he was breaking.
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Posted: Wed Aug 08, 2007 7:28 am
He cast his eyes around the room. Where was he? He looked again he seemed to be in an isolated room.
“Where am I?” Pierce asked.
“Your with me.” Said a man with a seductive voice.
“Tom, what are you doing here?” Pierce asked.
“What am I doing here? Simple. I’m here to keep you from your family. You see you know something about me.”
“What do you mean?” Pierce asked.
“You know my secret.” Tom said.
“What secret?” Pierce said.
“The secret that I am gay. Do you remember that one night we had?” Tom said looking at Pierce lustfully.
“That night you forced me into it. Everything was going fine until you made me have sex.”
“I still love you Pierce.” Tom said.
“If you did love me. Why force me to do what we did that night. It’s over.” Pierce said.
Pierce looked at Tom with hatred.
Okay 150 words exactly.
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Posted: Wed Aug 08, 2007 8:08 am
He cast his eyes around the room. The circular room surrounded the trunk of a mammoth oak tree. Burgundy pillows were placed between the thick roots to form a seating area. More pillows surrounded a large table made of half a cross-section of a tree by the far wall.
Two fireplaces were set deep into the walls on opposite sides on the room. He was stirred from his observations by his host’s voice, “I will go fetch us some dry clothes.”
He watched as steps formed under her feet as she made her way up the tree. Seth moved to the left fireplace removing his all but his pants and hung the drenched clothes on mantle to dry.
Sitting on the wooden floor he probed his back trying to find out how badly hurt he was. His clawed hands found three deep gashes when his host made her presence known once more.
Word Count: 145 (the original version was 200+ sweatdrop
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