Kids/Teens Book Club discussion
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Writing Contest: June 19th-July 5th.
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Would it be better if I changed the prompt?

"Imperfection is beauty,
Madness is genious and it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring."
~Marilyn Monroe~


No poetry
Word maximum 30,000 that should be plenty
No word minimum
Whoever wins gets to do the next one.
No excessive swearing and gory ness ness ness...
In the form of a short story
If you need more time just ask for an extension.
Happy Writing!!!!!!

It's okay, sometimes you have to really careful about hitting the post button. I'm bad to click it again if it is not posting fast enough for me and then when it finally posts it posts twice.

No poetry
Word maximum 30,000 that should be plenty
No word minimum
Whoever wins gets to do the next one.
No excessive swearing and gory ness ness ness...
In the form of a short story..."
Okay, thanks.


I might write one :D But I'm not good at writing stories so don't expect anything magnificent :)

Any writing is magnificent in m opinion... It doesn't have to be this very long drawn out story, I like short stories because you can develope a story in 1 page while authors take 300 pages.
thanks :) I'll give it a try :D
guys! I can't do it ;( I've been staring at a blank page for 2 days now :( sorry
For me it is, but that's probably cause I've never written before :)

A lot of authors draw inspiration from the external world, from something they saw or read or heard. For example, sometimes I'll read a book and wonder What if...? and from there, I'm able to construct an entirely new world with new, unrelated characters. Maybe you know someone who always struck you as a particular sort of stock character.
In this case, I'd suggest sitting down and staring at the quote. Think about what it could mean, what sort of situations or people it could describe, but don't think about what kind of short story or novella you could build around this quote. Not yet. Just think about the meaning of the quote. Think, too, about what kind of stories you like to read - if you wouldn't read it, there's no point in writing it. So you might come up with ideas that won't work for you as a writer. Maybe you've always wanted to write a particular story, and there's a way that you can tie the prompt and your idea together. (You might, for example, be able to introduce a character that epitomizes the quote.) Once you have an idea of what the quote could mean, a premise will probably come to you. That premise might lack detail, but that's okay. All you need is the idea. Then you can either start writing or you can think a little more and outline, depending on your personal writing style.
Don't worry about the word count. 30k is a lot (it's about 80-120 pages, depending on words per page), so you've got a lot of room to explore and write things that don't matter, but I'd suggest going for something a lot shorter (like 5k words). Keep it simple. If you need more words, then you have them, but you also don't want to stretch your story or yourself too thin.
You also have to give yourself time. Two days isn't that long if you're brainstorming, and staring at a blank page probably isn't the answer. You need inspiration; a blank screen or paper isn't going to be much help. Just start writing. It can be anything. It can be horrible, it can be something that you know is wrong, but it's still writing, and it can help you figure out the direction that you want to go. Have you tried journalling about the quote, writing about your interpretation of it? You might write one word or phrase that will get the wheels turning.
Don't stress over making everything perfect. You're going to make mistakes in crafting the story. That's what revising is for. Writing is a lot of experimenting; you try something, and it doesn't work, so you try something new. That something new works, but then it doesn't, so you go back to the original idea and make the changes to make that original idea work. And it still may require more tinkering. And that's okay. It's frustrating, but it's part of the writing process. Writing's not supposed to be easy.
Does that help at all?

On Elm Street laid an old, sagging, rickety farm house. The house's paint was a soft yellow trying to detach itself and release it from the madness within. It was enclosed with a wraparound porch that is masked with, bushels of all shades of pink and purple, Bougainvillea vines. The grass is a foot tall, looks like it has not been mowed in years, trying to conceal the house. A charcoal black rusting iron fence encloses the property and its wild trees are placed inches from each other surrounding nature’s beauty. As you take the cobblestoned pathway up to the peeling white door....
Molli Chadwick roamed the halls of Greenberry High school feeling isolated and hated. Kids whisper things, laughing and pointing at this crazy girl who had no sense of fashion. Molli liked to think she was special, one of a kind and liked her bright, multi-colored, bizarre outfits.
She clutched her plain silver locket that held a picture of her mother who died when she was born leaving her a orphan. Her father committed suicide a day after her mother passed away because he could not stand the thought of being without her. Now Molli resides with a close friend of her mother.
She left school searching for the silver sedan that Anna, her guardian, drives. She spotted the car at the end of the parking lot patiently waiting for her. She approached the car and got in. Anna greeted her, "Hey, honey. How was your day?"
"Horrible like always." Molli said as her backpack was thrown on the ground. Anna touched her shoulder and drove home.
They lived in the suburbs on a ranch style house that was olive green with dark red shutters. Personally, Molli hated it; it reminded her of green olives they put in martinis. Molli went to her room and completed her homework for the next horrendous day of school.
When Molli finished her dinner, which was zippy chili and a cheese tortilla, she went to the living room and searched for a book. As her eyes scanned the bookshelf, they locked on to a book she had not seen before; the title read, Round the Corner in Gay Street. She pulled the book out and as she did a piece of paper fell to the ground. She picked the paper up and the book and took it to her room. She sat on her bed and read the letter,
Dearest Daughter, I'm so proud of you! Please take care of my yellow farmhouse and keep it within the family. Maebelle, remember what Papi said, "Being different is better than being a copy." You are a very special and teach that to your little girl. See you soon, Mami.
Molli's heart skipped a few beats, she was in shock. Maebelle was her mother’s name, so this letter must be addressed to her from my grandmother. She stuck the letter into the book and went to her mirror and retrieved the picture of her father holding her. In the picture behind her father she saw a yellow wall covered with pink and purple vines. This must be the house Mami was talking about, she thought to herself. Molli grabbed her laptop and searched yellow farmhouses in Vermont. A realtor website popped up and showed all the farmhouses; Molli scanned the through the photos and found one yellow farmhouse and it was only a half a mile away. After school she would check it out and see if this was the house Mami was talking about.
Molli sat anxiously at her seat, staring at the clock waiting for the horrid sounding bell to ring, but today it sounded like a sweet lullaby. She shot out of her seat and ran to the bike rack. Molli hopped on her bike, looked at the address of the farmhouse and left.
She approached a old, rusty iron gate, set down her bike and opened the gate. Butterflies were pounding against her stomach making her heart race. She climbed up the cobblestone steps and continued down the path leading her to disappointment or bliss.
Up in the clearing, pass the moss trees, she saw a old, saggy, rickety yellow farmhouse masked with bushels, of all shades of pink and purple Bougainvillea Vines, like it was shown in the picture behind her father. She stood staring at this madness in beauty, knowing it belonged to her family for generations.


Love like there's no tomorrow. Live like there's forever. ~(i don't know. Saw it online)

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12 hour stand.This could mean many things so interoperate this how you think. I'm here to answer your questions.