10 Writing Prompts that Don’t feel like Homework!
Hi all!
I have noticed a lot of the people reading are writers themselves, and if there’s one thing a writer loves, it’s arbitrary limitations to challenge your creativity! And if there’s one thing a writer hates, it’s homework. So, in the spirit of sport, I thought I’d put together some interesting writing prompts (that don’t feel too much like homework) for you to try.
You can use these however you wish. Either as short story fuel, a writing challenge, a scene prompt for when you don’t know where to go with your story, or just some fun on a lazy afternoon.
The list of prompts follows:
1. You receive an unmarked package in the mail. You don’t know what it is, or who it’s from, but your dog has a visceral reaction to it.
2. There’s danger hiding under the table. The main character doesn’t know it’s there, but the audience does.
3. You start hearing echoes of what people are about to say before they say it.
4. The world’s last coffee shop is open for business, but won’t be for long.
5. In the far future, when all the stars have gone out, one child is scouring the dead worlds in search for one thing.
6. You’ve never noticed the door behind the cupboard, but this morning, it’s open.
7. Your character helps a stranger to fix a problem that they’re still struggling with.
8. A story from the point of view of a vehicle, place, or object, watching the people as they go about their lives.
9. A family pet embarks on an epic quest to rid the world of a great evil.
10. There are two people in a room. It can be any room you wish, and any two people. The story revolves around them and their conversation. Neither may leave the room during the story.
So, there’s our list. Again, use or abuse these prompts as you see fit. If you need further inspiration, I will give an example of how I like to use prompts and challenges.
Because I love a good, meaningless time pressure, I’ll be setting myself 30 (thirty) minutes to complete a short scene. If you want to take the challenge as well, I encourage you to set a time limit depending on how long you want your scene to be. It really helps to focus your intent, knowing that once your time is up, there’s no changing the story. And besides, it’s a bit of fun.
I think I’ll choose prompt number 2. I have a timer set next to me, and I’m ready to start. If you’re following along at home, I encourage you to do the same.
Ready? 3, 2, 1, Go!
——- The Man in White ——-
It was a pleasant morning on the banks of La Seine. The pigeons cooped in their cozy nests, huddling together to beat back the cool chill in the air. The cobblers cobbled, the bakers baked, and the children squealed as they played in the cold waters.
Alfred Prince wrapped his scarf around his face as he sat in his chair, the morning paper in front of him, the steam billowing from his cup of coffee. Thirty years, he’d spent in this city, and not a morning had gone by that he hadn’t sat in this same chair, at this same table, and had this same cup of coffee. Jéan, the man who owned the café, had jokingly put up a sign that read ‘Reserved, for the Prince of Paris.”
All was well, all was as it should be. All, that is, except for the explosive device affixed to the underside of the table. It had been there since the night before, a fuse set with an expert hand, a clock calibrated to the exact time that Alfred would be at his seat.
It lay there, waiting, tick, tick, ticking away the seconds until the perfect moment, until the precise second that it would finally fulfill its purpose.
But still Alfred sat, blissful and unaware, blowing the steam from his cup as the city woke.
On this particular morning, his usually tranquil breakfast was disrupted, when a man in a white suit sat across the table from Alfred. He had round, dark glasses on, and had a toothpick in his mouth.
“You know,” the man began, before Alfred could object. He spoke with an American accent, which Alfred thought was rather jarring. He was used to hearing their voices in the pictures, but he rarely heard them in real life. “I always liked the colder months. Y’see, usually people prefer the summer. Warm sun, beach days, I get it. And don’t get me wrong, I love a good barbeque same as any man, but there’s just somethin’ about winter. About a warm fire durin’ a snowstorm, that really speaks to me.”
Alfred sat in stunned silence, his coffee held mid-sip. He placed it down, rather more forcefully than he’d intended.
“Who the hell are you?” he finally said. “Leave me to my breakfast!” How dare this man interrupt his quiet, how dare he interrupt the breakfast that Alfred had enjoyed every day for near on three decades.
“I think it’s the bugs,” the man continued, ignoring his question. “I hate ‘em, see? And there seems to be less of them in winter. Too cold for ‘em, I suppose. Maybe that’s why I like it this side of the pond.”
“Bugs? Are you mad?”
“Mad?” he laughed. “No, I ain’t mad. I love the way you folk talk. How about you and me go for a little walk, and we can have a little chat about linguistic differences?”
“I think not! You’re a madman indeed if you think I’m going with you.”
For a split second, Alfred though he saw a flash of annoyance on the man’s face.
“Really, I think it’s best if we go somewhere else. It’s for your own good, trust me.”
“Sir,” Alfred said, “if you do not leave me alone, I shall be forced to call the inspector. I wish to break my fast in peace, if it please you.”
“Well, see Alfie, the thing about that, is that it doesn’t please me.” The man smiled, and lowered his glasses, looking down his nose at the older man.
“H—how do you know my name?” Alfred asked, only now noticing that he could only see one of the man’s hands. The other stayed beneath the table, where it had been since he sat down.
“Oh, that don’t matter, Alfie. What does matter is that you’re comin’ with me.” He lifted his hand onto the table, a handkerchief draped over the clear silhouette of a pistol in the man’s grip.
“P—p—please!” Alfred gulped. “I don’t have anything of value! Take my wallet, there’s some money in here, just p—please don’t h—hurt me!” He could hardly move, could not have cried out if he’d tried. His lungs almost refused to breathe. He’d never even been in a fight before, much less stared down the barrel of a real gun. Adventures were best left to the dashing knights in the pictures, in the humble opinion of Alfred Prince.
“I’m disappointed in you, Alfie. Fer a smart guy, you really ain’t a good listener. Did I say I wanted your money? Did I tell you to give me your wallet?”
“W—what do you want then?”
“I said, Alfie. Let’s move.” Alfred only now noticed the sweat beginning to accumulate on the man’s forehead. “We don’t have a lot of time,” he said, looking at his watch.
“G—go? Go where? I shan’t be kidnapped, you know!”
“Up, now!” the man growled, motioning with the pistol for Alfred to stand. “We’ve got less than a minute, Alfie. They’ll’ve seen me now, but we can’t make a big scene out of it.”
“I—I can’t! MY legs have gone to jelly! I can’t stand!”
“Alfie, if you don’t stand right now and march over to that car, I’m going to shoot you in the arm, do you understand? Listen to me. Move. Now.”
Alfred only sat, wide eyed, staring.
The man, sweating openly now, looked down at his watch, then back to Alfred, his chest rising rapidly.
“Fuck it,” the man said, then leapt over the table, tackling Alfred to the ground, as the world exploded around them.
——- End ——-
So, that’s my attempt. Feel free to tuck those ten prompts into your back pocket for a rainy day, maybe I’ll start a series on the blog of writing challenges and prompt responses.
If you try any of the prompts, send your piece to LachlanBondAuthor@gmail.com or submit it right here. With your permission, I’ll feature a few on upcoming posts — whether you're a seasoned pro or just starting out, we’d love to hear from you! There may even be a small prize for the story we like best!
That’s all for this time, everyone. Of course, I’d be a poor salesman if I didn’t mention that you can buy both ‘The Whispering Depths’, and ‘The Road to Ithaca’ right now on amazon! If you’re looking for more short stories, writing tips, and updates, be sure to check out the blog or subscribe below.
But that’s all for now, I’ll see you in the next one.
As always, thanks for reading!
