Sunday, May 31, 2009

Week 2 of 3 in Developing Genres



This is week 2 out of 3 in our series on developing genres. The first week we tackled Western's and this week we worked on creating a Sci Fi story. It was very interesting to see how the writers took the same photo and created some very diverse stories.

One writer in particular e-mailed me something with his entry. It basically said, "Sci-Fi writing is not really my thing. It was a major stretch.... "To that I say, BRAVO!!!! The point of 110words is not to find the world's greatest writer, it's to help you grow. We go thru exercises like the 3 weeks of genre development to push you. We want you to be stretched - it helps you become a better and more creative writer. So what, if it sucks. Try again. Try something different. The possibilities are endless. So next time you read this blog or receive a photo in your inbox, don't think, "I can't do this." Think "What can I do with this?" and then push yourself.



Life after College
By: Josh S.


Chon’s mother did not understand why his senior picture had to look so dramatic. She also did not understand why he insisted on wearing his bluetooth. Chon was all set to graduate at the top of his class from the University of Neptune. He was going to use his senior picture in his portfolio. He completed college with a degree in Earth Reality Television Studies. After graduation, Chon is going to take a full time position as a reality star on planet Earth in the new TV series “Dancing with the Star Wars characters”. He landed this role after he failed his audition for “So Spock thinks he can dance”.


It Hurt
By: Jerry H.


It hurt. NxLie’s chest felt as if a Snarlt with its raptor claws and feline incisors had tore his torso. He endured the interrogation; his pain was more from his failure than injury. They are The Chosen yet they refuse to believe. Refusal because we, like all of the civilizations that never ate the fruit, have no shame that requires us to cover our bodies. The Fellowship approaches. They must be made to understand; they are The Chosen! They possess the authority to defeat The Fellowship before all is devoured and destroyed. The Chosen have a history of not believing saviors until after they’re murdered. Sacrifice? NxLie cried. It hurt.


Longing
By: TresK


“Merde!” Jardin muttered, reverting to his mother tongue. Things had gone from bad to worse to wretched all too fast.

While the larger, harder part of his brain furiously calculated time-zap vectors the smaller, softer part kept thinking of Kaarin. He’d acted rashly, that much he’d admit, but hadn’t she started it? She’d sent him back without calibrating the stopping watch. Their argument, when he finally returned, had simply pushed things too far.

He didn’t want “I’ll show you reckless!” to be his last words, but it wasn’t looking good. The time-plasma was heating up, turning green. Too green, too fast.

Jardin only hoped Kaarin hadn’t tried to follow.


[X-thoo-shush]
By: Randy H.


I am called Xthousious and I come from the city of Dark Forms. By my words my memory has returned but my strength fails. The Worm Lords have confounded me here. This place is cold and I feel a force within it; a shield of sorts, not elemental but spiritual. An evil presence looms here. I must depart at once. I can hear the waves of motion beyond this corridor but I am unable to pierce the threshold. Something—this presence—is preventing my advance. It’s dominion I cannot break. Telepathic signals may reach my comrades in time; for rescue, before the hemorrhaging of the sun. Focus I must.


Reaching Deep
By: Linda Gail A.


On an unnamed planet far in the galaxy, surrounded by people known as Nubnub, I found myself captured. Their torture technique was simple: immobilize the enemy with a green gamma ray that causes pain with movement. But move I must. I’ve got to return to my interplanetary schooner, and be off this planet before the new moon because it’s scheduled for demolition. It’s on a collision course with my home planet, Zarzar where my family lives. I must reach deep and overcome the pain. It’s time to go. I press the sensor implanted above my ear signaling my need for rescue. Within moments I’m freed and on my way home.

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Sunday, May 17, 2009

Week 1 of a Three Week Series on Genres - The Western



This is Week 1 of a three week series on Genres. Each week the subscribers are given the task of creating a story based off of the photo given (or they can use one of their choosing), however, it must be 110 words or less, it is due by 11am 2 weeks from the date given. In this series, 110words is trying to have writers focus more on the genre itself. Most of the writings we receive are typically not genre specific. We want to help push each writer creatively to help mold them into a better writer in general. We got some great stories back this week based off of our genre of Westerns. After reading the stories below, you'll see some excellent examples of transporting the reader into your story. It's not just about the saying "We are in a Western." How does it smell in the barn? What words/phrases do the characters use? Tell me about location. What is it made of? Does the wood creak at night?

Enjoy!

Outlaws
By: Mark H.


Billy leaned against the weathered beams of the old barn and kept his eyes riveted on the horizon. “You gonna watch with me or yap at them mangy furballs all day, Thomas?”

“Only need one eye to see ‘em comin’, Billy, and looks like you got two good ones. ‘Sides, between us we got the two fastest guns in these parts. What’re you so worried about?”

“Ain’t worried, just ain’t taking any chances. You know Miss Ellie’s give us jobs for 10 years now. I ain’t lettin’ that stinkin’ band of outlaws do anything to hurt that good woman.

“Ok Billy – look ahead there – time to earn our pay.”


New Law
By: Linda Gail A.


“This sure do beat the cow tipping we did last week,” Leroy drawls. “Now we’re the law in this here town, and we can arrest anyone who acts up. Course, we might need to do like Sheriff Monroe did for us. We deputize the two biggest rascals and put them in charge.”

“I’m not sure who was more surprised; us or the town, when they realized we were now the law,” Stern offers.

“We’ll be fine as long as we leave Hank’s boys alone,” Leroy sagely advises.

“They run the largest still in the county,” Stern protests.

“Sounds like deputizing time.”

“Maybe so.”


Dusty on Tuesday
By: TresK3


It was Dusty on Tuesday. It was always Dusty on Tuesday. A guy works hard on the ranch all day, then he has to put up with this? Not for the first time, we offered to help. We could just shoot the calf and be done with it. But no, Dusty had to do it himself, like some actor cowboy from the moving-picture shows. Some people are just that way, no matter who suffers. Tomorrow would be Wednesday and Lefty would cook and we’d eat on time. We’d eat on time all week… until next Tuesday.


Watchful Silence
By: Deb Freitag


“Whaddya see Beelzbub?” said Brooks. He didn’t expect an answer. But he sure wished he knew. Animals sensed danger before humans. Even he knew that. Beelzbub was sniffing the air and staring up at the cliffs across the plain. Whoever stole the horses a fortnight ago was probably coming back for them. They were as ready as could be. No horses. No food. Bastards even filled in the well and killed the dogs. But why? Brooks broke the silence again and asked Simon, “Why did they…” But Simon hushed him saying urgently, “Shush ol’ fool. They’re scoutin’ us now. Watch the shadows on the ridge and get your rifle ready…”


By Government Regulation Every Western Must Have A Character Named Slim
By: Jerry H.


Monroe squinted and exclaimed “That’s them Cat rustlers Slim!”

“Yaep.”

“Member them Yankee cat rustlers back in 1863, da war for our independence.”

“Yaep.”

“Gave them loads of buckshot, we sure did.”

“Yaep.”

“Back East in Chicamungie I recall.”

“Yaep.”

Monroe looked down, “Fluffy, Ya ready?”

“Meow”

“Penelope Ya ready girl?”

“Meowww.”


Monroe and Slim vigilantly and skillfully checked their weapons. Monroe spit a wad of chew on the ground. It oozed it’s substance like an ice cube melts in the sun.

“Meow!”

“Sorry Penelope. I’m always nervous when cat rustlers are coming.”

Fluffy observed, “Meow, meow, meow memeow,”

“Yaep.”


The Strike
By: Josh S.


“Is that all they do all day Carl?”

“What are you talking about Willie?”

“They just walk around, sit down, and look around at everything all day long.”

“What is wrong with that?”

“I don’t know, it just seems kind of pointless”

“How else are they supposed to keep the mice out of the barn?”

“Well they could give us our pension benefits and the health care options we asked for then we could come off of our strike and lend a hand.”

“I don’t think they will budge Willie, I think they actually enjoy being lazy.”

“Well, at least we don’t need guns to kill mice like halfwitted humans”


Moonshine Whiskey
By: Randy H.


“Jeb, would you stop messin’ with that damn cat? You’re makin’ me nervous,” shouted DeWitt.

“I’m just tryin’ to make a friend, maybe somethin’ you should be doin’,” Jeb replied.

“You told me you would help me stand guard against those county bastards that want to shut down grandpa’s still. This still has been producin’ for ages and I ain’t about to back down. You with me or not?,” asked DeWitt.

“I’m here ain’t I?,” responded Jeb. “You didn’t tell me I’d have to stand guard with my rifle. Besides, I’m supposed to be hayridin’ with Miss Annie.”



“Chasin’ felines is about all your good for anyway,” bemoaned DeWitt.


Longing For Her Return (A Western)
By: Lindsey D.

Stringbean stared off into the distance, the barrel of his gun set snug into is thigh, longing for her return. He felt the pulsating stress of the early morning ride on his inner thighs and hoped to have another. It was she who had finally made this gangly, awkward cowboy feel like a real man; in control of each and every move.
The bright sun reflected off of the bare field exhibiting the remnants of the season’s harvest. He squinted, strained, searched. He spotted her strutting toward him, her long legs stretching elegantly with each step. A smile crept across his face.
“That goddamn horse is back,” Old Jim grunted.