Are these spot on? #writing #infographic
Are these spot on? #writing #infographic
Are these spot on? #writing #infographic
Are these spot on? #writing #infographic
Hey everyone!
Back in January, I entered a really fun contest called the 24 Hour Writing Contest. It’s hosted by Angela Hoy over at Writer’s Weekly. Writer’s Weekly holds the 24 Hour Writing Contest a few times a year and it only costs $5 to enter. They release a topic and word count the day the contest opens and you have 24 hours to write your piece and submit it. It’s really fun and I loved participating. I was honored to be given an honorable mention in the 2015 Winter contest. I’m going to be entering the 2015 Spring contest that opens on April 25th as well. You should check it out!
I’m not going to post my story here, because I’m going to polish it up a little and submit it for publication to a few magazines. So, wish me luck! And do be sure to check out the April contest. It’s tons of fun, cheap to enter, and offers great prizes! 🙂
Happy Writing!
~ Eileen
“He’s just a cub.” Sarah said quietly, her eyes diverted.
“It doesn’t matter. Where there’s a cub, there’s a mother.” Her father shoved his arms into his jacket, grabbed the rifle resting by the door and stepped out onto the porch. He looked back at his daughter. “And you know a mother will do anything to protect it’s child. As will her father.” He smiled grimly at her before turning and heading down the steps into the yard.
The winter wind was biting and Sarah wrapped her arms around herself as she watched her father’s back retreat into the flurrying snow.
A few flakes rode the wind inside the house and landed in her hair before she could shut the door. As they melted, Sarah could feel their icy chill running through her hair and down the back of her neck.
Sarah walked into the living room where she stoked the fire and added more wood. It was the only source of heat in the small cabin so either her father or Sarah always made sure it was going strong if they walked through the room. Sitting on the rug before the fire, Sarah gazed into the flames and brooded.
A noise coming from the back of the house snapped her out of her reverie. It was a bumping, scuffling noise. Sarah rose from her position on the floor and stood still to listen. Something scraped across the floor in the utility room and bumped into the door. Fearing her father had been hurt and was crawling in the back door, Sarah ran to the hallway and threw open the utility room door.
“Father!” She cried, expecting to see his large form on the floor.
Instead of her father on the floor, a large black shape loomed in the doorway. The mother bear let out a loud roar and Sarah, unable to scream, fell backward onto her rump in the hallway.

Happy Reading!
~ Eileen 🙂
Into the night she sneaked, her black shoes quiet on the soft grass. The wind whistled softly, almost apologetic through the branches above her head. Looking to her left, she could make out the mansion. There was a light on in the lower level but the upstairs sections were completely dark.
Happy Reading!
~ Eileen 🙂
If you’ve been following me for a while, you know I like to use random generator tools to spur ideas for quick and spontaneous writing. Some people find it difficult to think of something to write when they are under pressure even if it’s self-imposed pressure. However, I find doing writing exercises regularly that are prompted by a random generator of some sort keep my writing skills sharp. I can pretty much write something worthwhile at the drop of a hat now. All it takes is some regular practice.
Today’s resource that I would like to share with you generates an entire line randomly when you click the button. It’s on the Writing Exercises website which you can find HERE. There are several generator tools to choose from and they are all pretty great. For example, from the home page, you can select a Random Quick Plot Generator. When I used that tool, this is what I got.
Right away my mind begins spinning off into the setting for the opening scene in which my young man is standing on a cliff ready to jump, the wind whipping his blond hair off his forehead to reveal his royal blue eyes and the police are after him. Then there is a ‘4 Days Earlier’ transition into the meat of the story. I can’t wait to write it!
One of my favorite tools on this site is the Random First Line Generator. This tool just gives you the first line of your piece and then you’re off! I like to use generator tools in conjunction with my Write or Die Desktop Edition (there is a free web app version too). I set a time or word limit and pound away on my keyboard until I hit my set goal. Sometimes I stop there and sometimes I keep going. Other times I set it aside so I can think about it and add more to it later. Whatever you decide to do with your piece of writing, it’s an excellent way to get your juices flowing.
Here’s what my First Line came out as:
And here’s what I wrote in 5 minutes. (This is completely unedited.)
# # # # #
There was nothing left of the money except what lay on the table. Hank looked at the paltry stack of bills and felt his anger rising up into his face. He took a deep breath and trained his eyes on Marney.
“This is it?” He tried to control his fury, but it seeped out through his teeth like smoke.
She nodded silently, afraid to meet his eyes.
“Look at me.”
Her head came up inch by inch, her fresh shiner a grim reminder that Hank was back home and he was in charge. Her arms twitched, grabbing onto each other for comfort, her hands flitting up and down her too thin arms like dying birds.
“This is all that’s left?” He growled at her.
“Yes.” She said, tears leaking from her eyes. She nodded. “Yes. That’s all.” She waved a small hand at the paper on the table.
The silence was pregnant with unpent rage.
“There were bills, Hank. ” She stammered. “And Malorey . . . needed school . . . clothes and supplies . . .” Her voice trailed off, knowing Hank didn’t care about what their daughter needed to raise above the filth and poverty they both had grown up in.
“Damn it, Marney. I needed that money!” He yelled, slamming his fist onto the formica table top.
The paper bounced once and rolled over onto its side before it fell with a plop onto the kitchen floor. Before Marney’s eyes could get from the money on the floor to Hank’s face, she felt his fist pound into her cheek.
She opened her eyes. The money was inches from her face, his boots were coming closer and Marney began to cry.
# # # # #
I like to use generators and a 5 minute timer on my Write or Die to get myself warmed up. Then I get to work on my novel. Or sometimes, I use the generator as a blog post topic AND a writing warm up to boot!
Happy Reading and Happy Writing!
~ Eileen 🙂
Amid the chaos, Noah could feel his panic raising. He turned, his cloak swirling around his calves, searching the faces swarming around him for a friendly set of eyes. Blood splattered faces grimaced at him in pain and fear and Noah knew his search for a friend was failing.

Happy Reading!
~ Eileen 🙂
He stared. His eyes, not moving from her face.
“Now?” He breathed quietly.
She made no sound but nodded her ascent.
“What about my dignity?” His eyes begged her for understanding, his hands reached toward her, palms up, hands open.
“You have none.” She seethed.

Happy Reading!
~ Eileen 🙂
mighty oak
solid roots
never running
always standing
tall
reaching
to the sky
never goodbye
always by my side
standing tall
mighty oak

Happy Reading!
~ Eileen 🙂
“Worldly?”
“Yes, worldly. What’s wrong with worldly?” She put her hands on her slim hips and lightly stamped her foot on the ground, indignation clear on her face.
“Nothing’s wrong with worldly, little one. Do you know what it means?” The little girl’s mother smiled down at her as she washed a plate at the kitchen sink.
“Yes.” Her daughter claimed. “It means you’re from another world.”
At her mother’s gentle laughter, the child stomped from the room, tears in her eyes.
Putting the soapy plate in the sink, Mary turned to follow her daughter, wiping her hands on the dish towel at her waist.

Happy Reading!
~ Eileen 🙂
Her hair flew in a wave as she turned, her skirt whirling around her smooth thighs. Tiny bells at her ankles tinkled merrily in time to the tambourine she tapped with her hands above her head. The sun dappled through the trees surrounding the courtyard, catching her eyes as she turned like blasts of sapphire light.

Happy Reading!
~ Eileen 🙂