WORDS FOR WEDNESDAY

Words for Wednesday

This meme was started by Delores a long time ago.   Delores discontinued her blog for a while, but she has returned.  Her new blog can be found here.  Delores will provide our words in February.

Essentially the aim is to encourage us to write.  Each week we are given a choice of prompts: which can be words, phrases, music or an image.   What we do with those prompts is up to us:  a short story, prose, a song, a poem, or treating them with ignore...  We can use some or all of the prompts.

Some of us put our creation in comments on this post, and others post on their own blog.  It would be great for  if as many people as possible to join into this fun meme.  If you are posting on your own blog - let me know so that I, and other participants, can come along and applaud.

Elephant's Child has done a great job keeping this going and making sure someone is assigned to post words each month.  January is my month so...
 
This week's prompts are: 

golden, play,musical,publish,warrant,preview

or
advice,human,beauty,rice,story,shrimp

And here is a picture if you choose to incorporate it in your writing as well.

 

I will post as many as I can on this home page.  I don't know how many Blogger will allow.  Thanks OSC for getting us started.  Excellent!!

 only slightly confused said...

Okay Granny, Here we go.
Earl wiped away the raindrops beading on his blue vintage bug and gallantly opened the door for Enid.
"She's a beauty, Earl." Enid drawled.
They were off to a celebration dinner at Eli's Rice and Shrimp Shop in honour of Earls new musical set to open that very night.
"If all goes well, we'll have a real celebration later tonight. Earl was fairly bubbling with excitement.
"The preview went well this afternoon." Enid said. "I warrant you'll be New York's golden boy tomorrow morning. I'm just glad you took my advice and turned that humdrum story into a musical instead of a play."
"I'll be happier when I read what the experts publish in the Times tomorrow."
Earl steered expertly through the human wall crossing 24th against the light. "I'm so nervous I don't know if I can even eat."

LOVE THE RAINDROPS ON THE VINTAGE BLUE BUG.  GREAT STORY OSC (DELORES). HOPE EARL GETS AN ADEQUATE REWARD.   g.a.

Lee said...
Here I go! I hope you enjoy it!

"Her three adult children sat around the kitchen table, not for a meal, but for a private PREVIEW of sorts of the PLAY their mother had written.

What was written on those pages before them was something to which she’d dedicated the past four years of her life, blocking out almost all else. Their eagerness was palpable.

Even the two large bowls of freshly-netted SHRIMP packed in ice sitting in the fridge couldn’t drag their attention away from the exciting event that was about to unfold.

Only the expectation of being the first to witness the culmination of their mother’s dream, her perseverance and her unfailing commitment; to be reading the results of her long hours of hard work could WARRANT such dedicated attention from the seafood-loving trio. Finally, it was all about to be exposed.

The theme of the STORY had been a closely guarded secret until this exciting moment.

Droplets of rain like small grains of RICE ran down the windows, remnants of the light rain that had fallen earlier. The final rays of the sun peeping through the dissipating clouds added a GOLDEN BEAUTY to the memorable momentous occasion.

The play was based on a series of HUMAN frailties and inner strengths.

“I want your unbiased ADVICE,” the mother asked of her children. “Please! Please! Don’t hold back! I need you to be honest. Give constructive criticism. If you think I should alter something, tell me. I promise I won’t be offended or angry. If I want to PUBLISH this, and by God, I do - eventually, if it’s successful in its present format, I believe it could be turned into a stage MUSICAL. And, you three, with your song-writing talents, could just be the new Andrew Lloyd Webber, Tim Rice, Stephen Sondheim and Richard Rodgers combined!”

WONDERFUL LEE.  I HOPE THE MOTHER'S PLAY PROPERLY DEPICTED THE HUMAN FRAILTIES AND INNER STRENGTHS.  HOW DO YOU COME UP WITH THIS STUFF?  GREAT.  g.a.

Elephant's Child said...

Loved only slightly confused take. And would happily go to see that play. And I hope that play of Lee's protagonist IS turned into a musical. Theatre doors are opening the world over.

My take follows:
A preview of Nate's golden years would have looked very different to the current reality. He had never dreamed that they could be so productive. Other people moved into theirs after retiring from work. His route was different. Work? Paid employment? For someone else? Following rules? Shudder.
Light fingers and friends in the wrong places had supported him all his life. He had played musical chairs with jail and freedom. And now for the first time in decades there wasn't a warrant out for his arrest. Not only that, but a reputable firm had agreed to publish his memoirs, 'On the far side of the Wall'. And Nate loved the cover, water droplets signifying the individual acts of kindness which turned his life around, set against a blue backdrop which could be the wall, or could signify the endless freedom of the sky....

LIGHT FINGERS AND FRIENDS IN THE WRONG PLACES...WELL GUESS WE ALL COULD HAVE GONE THAT DIRECTION.  GUESS POOR NATE WAS JUST DESTINED FOR A BACKDROP OF WALLS.  GREAT JOB E.C..  LOVE YOUR DIRECTION. g.a.

River said...

I love the stories above me here and I'm searching for my thinking cap because my mind is throwing up blank walls at the moment.
I know I'll come up with something and my story will appear on my blog on Friday 6th.

9:16 PM

 And here is River's WFW on Friday

Remy answered the thumping on the door and stood slack-jawed as Officer Brendan grinned at him. 

"Jeremy Paxton, how nice to see you, you're under arrest buddy!" Officer Brendan sounded far too pleased with himself.
"Name's Remy now," grumbled Jeremy. "No one says Jeremy anymore, 'cept mum and Gramma. What're you doing here anyway? I haven't done anything wrong."

"Yeah, I know," said Officer Brendan. "But there's been a story going around that you've got stolen goods stashed in there and I've got a warrant to search."
"There's nothing here!" cried Remy, outraged.
"You're probably right, but I have to search, so how about we get that over with."

Remy stepped back to let him in and Officer Brendan stood for a moment watching the play of golden sunbeams through dust motes lingering in the air. The beauty was somewhat marred by the rest of the apartment.
Clothes, shoes, and newspapers were strewn about, the sink was filled with empty shrimp fried rice containers, beer bottles and one plastic milk bottle with milk so old it had curdled and formed mould across its surface. 

"What exactly are you looking for?" asked Remy.
"Bulldog says the jewellery from last week's cat burglar heist is in your bathroom and there's a stash of weed under your mattress. Now take my advice and just sit here quietly while I check things out, okay?"

The search didn't take long, Officer Brendan knew this place had been staked out for over a week and no-one but Remy had come and gone in that time. But informants, criminals themselves, watched the Police as much as they did each other and if a search hadn't been carried out on the strength of Bulldog's words, many of the informants might just clam up and wonder what the heck was going on. Street news might not get into the station for quite a while.

Coming back into the living room, Officer Brendan, Steve to his mates, sat on the couch with Remy.
"So what have you been up to?" he asked Remy. 

"Staying off the drugs, trying to get back into writing. I wrote a preview piece for that new musical that's opening soon, a couple of other critics did too; I'm hoping they publish mine. Probably won't get into a national newspaper, but maybe a local free Arts magazine might pick it up."

"That's good to hear," said Steve. "You used to write brilliant reviews, a preview might just be the way to get back into the business. Could help if you stayed off the beer a bit, maybe clean this place up so it looks more like a human lives here. Some of the old crowd might start coming around again, give you a heads up when new stuff is coming to the theatre, that sort of thing."
"So what about this search then?" asked Remy. "What happens now?"

"I go back to the station and fill out the paperwork, say nothing was found here. You might see a couple of the boys hanging around, try not to notice them, we're still keeping our eyes peeled for that cat burglar."

I WAS KIND OF GLAD THAT THEY DID NOT FIND ANY BOOTY IN REMY'S HOME. FOR SOME REASON I BELIEVED THEY WOULD.  MAYBE HE JUST HID IT REAL WELL AND THEY WILL GET HIM NEXT TIME.  WELL RIVER, YOU DID IT AGAIN! g.a.

Granny Annie said...
Here is my contribution. Sorry my blog is not formatted well for replies to the work.

TALE OF A FLOP by Granny Annie

The play did not warrant a preview.
It was very difficult to watch.
Supposedly a golden musical,
Not even closes to topnotch.

What could lend support?
There was no human advice
That could allow a Broadway play
Based on shrimp and rice.

People came to see ballerinas
They did no want it to be gory.
Instead actors singing in a diner
Did not lend beauty to the story.

The show was closed immediately
There was never any rush
For any of the big names
Vying for the rights to publish.

7:22 AM

WELL GRANNY ANNIE, AT LEAST YOU TRIED.  LOL

Louvregirl said...My attempt (with the second batch of words) :)

----------------------------------------------------

She toyed lovingly with her bowl of shrimp curry. The sweat drops pooled on the side of her bowl; large droplets that seemed to form as if out of the thin air...Drip, drip they went down the perfectly blue side. Each drop a piece of advice. Each drop a story, a new meaning. Life, in motion. There is so much you cannot predict, about life.

She caught her breath and sobbed. When she was done, she looked around. (Good, it seemed to her that no one had noticed.)

Where was human beauty? She had tried to capture it.

Alas, as it is (with most things)...it is fleeting. She felt blue. She heard herself sigh a rather big, broad sigh.

Her attention tic-tic-turned back to her rather human story and to see if her bowl had any rice in it. She loved rice. Her mother used to make it.

Just as she thought...that her (own) (rather meager) life sucking story was all but done and that the last note was written, he sat down...


lg

HOORAY LG.  GREAT JOB AND WAY OFF THE TRACK OF A MUSICAL OR PLAY.  JUST A "LIFE SUCKING STORY".  LOL.  LOVED IT SO MUCH.  BRAVO TO YOU!