Contrary to popular belief (with the term “popular” used very lightly), I have not forgotten about this site. Actually, I have been working on a new theme for it to motivate myself to use it more, but my lack of any semblance of creativity is a major roadblock in posting content. But, have no fear! I have figured out a way to ensure that I will be able to use this site for something other than absolutely nothing!

I’m currently taking a class focusing on writing short fiction stories, and the teacher/leader/professor/instructor/Rabbi/Steve Jobs of it all/supreme ruler of the course has given us, the students, the suggestion to free write a few times a week (if not every day). I have made a commitment to myself and a friend to write every other day to further develop my writing skills while simultaneously giving my creativity a much needed outlet.

So, to chronicle my progression and development in a lasting manner, I will be posting copies of my stories and general writings for this class below, whether they are assignments or simply random daily exercises.

I’m definitely open to constructive criticism, as it is a huge assistance when trying to develop and further creative skills. And, really, who doesn’t want to know what others think of the things they put out into the world?

I hope you get some sort of enjoyment from these posts, whether it comes from your laughter at my failed attempts at literary genius or not.

The disheartened man, unhappy with the way his life, nay, his entire world operated, could think of nothing to bring him out of this depression. It was a bright July day, filled with sunshine and light, fluffy clouds, but all he could see were shades of gray. His only thoughts were those of disappointment and confusion as he made his way down the dirty sidewalk, empty of people yet littered with debris.

Glancing down, he saw an old newspaper, damp and dirty from laying in the gutter. He remembered the year-old headline as though it had occurred the day before. His mind brought him back to a simpler time, though that was quickly changed. One press of a button by one person. That’s all it took to change the world forever. Despite the screaming and reasoning and planning and maps and wildly gesticulating men, he pushed that button. One year ago, the world he had created came to an end.

Time limit: 5 minutes

Topic: Include “gesticulation” somewhere in the story.

The night wind was cold against her face, chilling her to the bone as she entered the dingy bar. She hadn’t seen him in a week and was growing more worried by the minute. The greasy-haired bartender was the last to see him… three days ago. Reggie, the bartender, told he that Jim had been in the bar three nights in a row, telling stories about his abusive father and his fear of becoming like him, growing angrier with each one. Reggie said that on his last night, Jim mentioned that he would be going away forcom a while because he wanted to talk to his father about his childhood. She ran out the door as she heard this, as she knew what Jim had decided to do to his father… her father.

As she wished the subway to go her, she remembered the anger and pain their father had caused. Sure, she hated him for what he did to them, but she stored those memories deep inside her and tried to forget his existence. Jim, though, couldn’t ignore his past. Rather, he let it eat hilm alive. No matter what she did, he would always talk about how much he hated their father and how he wished he could have done something when they were children. Tears threatened to spill as she tried to imagine what he had done, but she willed them away. There would be time for that later, when he was home. Suddenly, the subway lurched to a stop and she stepped out into the frigid cold once more. Running toward their childhood home, though, the tears started spilling over. Finally, she reached the home that held the horrors of the past. Things she had worked so hard to forget.

The door was unlocked, so she carefully pushed it open. She saw the glow of the television, so she slowly walked through the messy apartment. Calling for her brother, she made her way into the den. There was an odd smell in the air that grew stronger as she came closer to the room her father enjoyed the most. She gasped as she made it to the den, taking in the scene in front of her. Jim, sweet Jim… laying on the floor, gun in hand, with a pool of blood making a morbid halo around his head. Tears running down her face, she walked further into the room toward her father’s leather chair. The chair that his disgusting children weren’t allowed to touch. He was slumped to the side with dark blood stains running down his shirt, as though he had been shot in the chest. She had no will to verify this finding, as she fixed her gaze on the paper sitting on his leg. Jim had written her a note. Her tears turned into sobs as she picked up the paper and fell to the ground to read it through her uncontrollable tears.

Time limit: 20 minutes

Topic: Write a scene in which one character reduces another to uncontrollable sobs without touching or speaking.

As a note: I do realize that the language and style of this piece is rather simple, and I did more than one scene. I’m blaming that on the fact that this is the first creative writing I have done in a LONG time and I needed to test the waters. Rest assured; I promise my future posts will be better. At least, I hope. :|