NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). The hype has been building throughout the month of October and as November fast approaches, more and more people are getting on the band wagon.  

For some it will be the start of a lifelong dream. Others will take advantage of all-encompassing NaNoWriMo push that is needed to add to an already prominent saga of previously written work. Many who are immersed in the corporate world, will see it as an opportunity (as time permits) to just write and write and write.

The ultimate goal for writers during the month of November is to write 50,000 words. This presented a challenge at a recent Writer’s Group suggesting that for those who choose to write 50,000 words, others could write in support. Each who decide to participate as support writers will
set personal their own goals, electing to pen as much or as little within their reach.

It will be interesting, at the end of November, to tally up all of the words written by everyone contributing.

Have you made a pledge to yourself or to be involved with NaNoWriMo?

Not every week do we have homework from the Wednesday night Writing Group. This, however, was our latest challenge. 

Write as you will using the following words:
flabbergasted - Ookpic - clout - bar - dinosaur - everything was orange - Abbott and Costello

The Orange Pub

Abbott and Costello were flabbergasted. They couldn’t believe their eyes. Everything was orange in this quaint little pub and to top it off, a dinosaur just strolled through the door. It was heading to what appeared to be his regular spot at the bar. 

The dinosaur obviously had clout because nothing and no one had made an attempt to fill that vacancy, until now.

Abbott started to back towards the door as he took in the whole scene.  Costello on the other hand was unaware of what was going on behind him. That was until a hush fell over the room and he looked up into the mirror behind the bar; and there was a dinosaur staring him down. 

The trance finally snapped. 

“Abbott. Hey AAABBBOOOTTTT” Costello hollered as he picked up his Ookpic, floundered off the bar stool, and headed toward the door at an accelerated speed. 

“There’s a dinosaur in here!”

“Wait for me.”

“Abbott, Hey AAAABBBOOOTTTT”.  Was the last that was heard as the bar door swung shut. 

Precariously, Ravaged, Portfolio, Solitary, Stampede, Consequence, Rubber

This seven word challenge have become a silly little ditty. 




Silly Little Ditty

Precariously the ice flow moves
Past ravaged banks they had grooved
A portfolio of a solitary frozen pieces
A stampede from their winter leases
And tucked away safe from the eddy
A baby duck by the name of Freddy
A consequence for being curious
He knew is momma was sure to be furious
He’d paddled with one or maybe four
The tales he’d heard must be a lore
Oh how that baby duck did blubber
The lore was true, his new friends were rubber

The challenge? Six words - Guts, Echo, Retaliatory, Bruin, Anticipate, Animosity, Vagabond

Echo sat in the window seat cuddling her tiny bruin.

Not saying a word, she looked longingly out to the garden to where the other nymphs were jumping from shadows to sunshine like vagabonds that have no homes. 

Hara watched her. Would the nymph break silence during the excitement of the watching the game? That was hard to anticipate. There was much animosity felt between herself and Echo; and Hara often wondered if the tiny nymph would plan a retaliatory assault.  

It had taken guts to deprive the nymph of her chatter. A lesson to be learned from the queen’s playbook for all who crossed Hara, the queen of the gods, goddess of marriage. 

The results were presented to the APL's Writing Group on June 17/15. 

APL Writer's Group Homework Challenge for  May 29, 2015

Write the fictional story of your own funeral.

Belly Laughs And Wine
By Ann Edall-Robson

"Well, I’m not too sure how this happened. One minute I am enjoying the best belly laugh ever and a glass of wine with my best friend;  and the next thing I know I am here. The family hadn’t seen this coming. Well, if the truth be known, neither did I.

“The place looks nice. Not exactly what I had in mind; but, It’ll do in a pinch.” 

The chairs were leaning against the tables. Long rectangular affairs that were covered with burlap placemats over gingham table cloths. 

“Why did they use purple gingham? They know I dislike that colour! They think I won’t know and it doesn’t matter.” 

“Last wishes, children! Last wishes! MY Last Wishes, not yours.! “I wonder if they will ever listen or read the fine print.  I spelled out in point form what was to be done when I died.

“Oh great. Here comes the blubberers! I expected some crying but not a whole box of kleenex worth. By the looks of it, they had better have brought lots with them.”

“I wonder why people can’t get it when someone says they want a celebration of their life.”

“I didn’t have a problem dancing on the tables at old Jim’s celebration. He wanted us to remember the good times. Boy did he and I have a good time the night they asked us to leave the dance because we were table dancing. HA! He would have had a good laugh when his kids asked me to leave his little soiree for re-living that memory.” 

“Ahhh well…now, who is that coming in the door? Don’t recognize them. The kids seem to know who they are. I guess they are some of their friends. Nice for them to have some of their own kind in tow at a thing like this.”

“Jeeeeze Luweeeze, who in the heck ordered the white lilies? I know, I know. I always said they reminded me of death, but I sure didn’t mean mine! Wild flowers and lots of them would have been my choice.  Guess I missed that on my check list of “this is what I want”.”

“More blubbering. Reeeaaally! Boy is this ever going to be a long afternoon if people don’t lighten up.”

“Ahhhh, the oldest is trying to get everyone to listen. Hehehehe. Now they know what I went through when I wanted them to listen to me.” 

“Put your fingers in your mouth and whistle like I taught you.”

“That’s better. Now what were you going to say now that you have everyone’s attention?” 

“Late comers. Oh, of course it’s them. They are always late for everything. Something about making an entrance. Sucks to be them. This time it’s me that’s the important one. No one will give a hoot when they arrived. I know I don’t.”

“Oh, here goes . . .”

The oldest was starting to speak at the front of the room. 

“Everyone here knew Mom for the person she was. “

“Now who is that snickering? Figures it would be her. She never could say anything nice about anyone. Always negative, negative, negative about everyone and everything.”

“Mom wanted us to come together and celebrate her life by enjoying the day telling stories, having some good food and a few refreshments. So if anyone has a story that you promised never to tell, today would be the day to share it, because she’s not here to give you that look.”

“That’s what you think. Let’s see who has guts enough to drag the skeletons out of the closet.” 

“I don’t have to be here in person. They won’t tell anything because it would implicate them in anything they have to share. Let’s see who would be silly enough to spill the beans without thinking of how it would look for them”.

“Wow, there’s Mr. Crookman. Never thought he would show up. Right, forgot, he goes to all the funerals in town. Always takes advantage of the free food and beverages.” 

“Wait just a minute, Mr Crookman is going to speak! Hmmm, I wonder what I did that was story worthy enough for him to share.” 

He cleared his throat and started. “The lady we are here for today, was a good, honest person. Her only fault? Well, most of you already know what that is, so I don’t need to elaborate. I just came to say goodbye and get something to eat and drink.“

“If anyone else gets up, I am going to have to rattle the cutlery or something to give them something to think about before they get started. ” 

“I see my best friend Nancy has arrived. She is so awesome. Her, I will miss the most! Arms flailing, animated facial expressions, and that laugh. She re-tells the best stories. She will have them in stitches all afternoon. Good on you Nancy. You go girl. I will always have your back.”

“People are starting to leave. Oh my, look at the time. I am not really ready to be left alone here, you know. It was not my choice to leave everyone so quickly but I guess you all know that.” 

“I think I’ll go over here and mess up the ugly table cloths and see if anyone notices. 

Bet they won’t! They are all so absorbed in themselves. Even the ones that didn’t know me are weepy. Jeeeeesh. Maybe I am glad this day is over.  I’ll just see them to the door and maybe pick up on a bit of gossip.”

“It was good to see everyone again. It seems, once again, that it took a funeral to get us all together. Although some of you do know I will be around to check on you to make sure you’re getting on OK.”  

“I wonder what Crookman meant about my only fault?”

APL Writer's Group Challenge for Week of April 22, 2015

The following line from Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children By Ransom Riggs provides the prompt for this week’s challenge. 

“I picture a person shrivelling up and crumbling to dust like the apple on my night stand.”

Complete for April 29/15

Letting Go
By: Ann Edall-Robson

As she walked down the hallway to the back door, the reflection in the mirror caught her eye. 

A smile crossed her glossed lips. Once pampered, supple and unwrinkled the sight before her reminded her of the treasured intimate feeling that had come over her the first time they had been together.

Life had handed them a lot of diversity over the years; but they had always worked together without complaining. Snug in their surroundings and the relationship. Often taking on more than they should. 

Now, fading pigment and weathered from life itself, there was a worn and tired look that crept into the mirror. Parched and withered with a near the end feeling, her gaze dropped. A longing for the familiar soft caress across her fingers slipped into her mind. 

Where had the time gone? When did the tattered edges form? It is so hard to let go. To move on.

With one last tender touch, and a gentle goodbye, she removed the much loved old leather garden gloves and walked out the door. 

APL Writer’s Group Challenge for Week of April 15/15

Six words chosen by one member - turtle, clockwork, flatulent, Volkswagen, Australia, bent - To be used in any written form as long as all of the words are incorporated.

Complete for April 22/15

Flatulent Beetle
By: Ann Edall-Robson

Clyde and his daughter were sitting on a park bench enjoying ice cream and the warm sun of Australia when he felt a light push on his arm followed by a giggly voice, “Punch buggy, no returns.”

It made him smile as he thought of the old childhood game he and his friends would play. Like clockwork, whoever saw the “beetle” first would be hell bent on giving everyone else a sore arm. 

Looking up the street he saw the vintage green Volkswagen making its way towards them. Slowly, lurching and backfiring like a large flatulent turtle it passed before them and was soon gone from sight. 

APL Writer’s Group 

Six words chosen by members of the group - igloo, interminable (meaning no limits), hypothesis, sunset, desolation, porcine (pig like resemblance). To be used in any written form as long as all of the words are incorporated.

Complete for April 1/15

The Igloo Retreat
By: Ann Edall-Robson

The sunset was a chilling sight knowing that fast on its heals was the darkness that would soon engulf the camp. 

A feeling of desolation lingered throughout the small group that had come to this remote location as part of the lavish interminable retreat. They had all come on their own accord. Each with their own expectations of how this, at any price, philanthropist sponsored, sleep in an igloo under the blazing northern sky, would play out.  

The brochure had been glossy almost gauche in appearance. Informative and exciting. Sign up now with a small deposit, balance 30 days prior to departure. No refunds. Activity list would be available upon arrival at the camp. 

The dangling carrot had been deftly slid into the terms. At the destination, a final game of chance would be spelled out for anyone who wished to get involved. The prize? A bi-annual, all expenses paid week of adventure at any one of the properties owned by the sponsor. 

Hiking in over rough terrain for the last half mile of the trip, each had been carrying loaded backpacks filled with supplies for the week. Oh, they had all come prepared. The brochure had given a list of equipment and clothing they would need. Transportation, food and accommodation had been included in the hefty price. 

The brochure did not tell them that after their journey, they would be left and would have to work together to survive; and, ultimately, as a team, take the final day to walk out to their transportation home. The activity list was loaded with surprise after surprise!

They had now been at the igloos for three days and tensions were running deep. Tomorrow, the fourth day, they would use the maps and compasses left in each of the igloos to strategize and plan their walk to civilization. 

The topographical maps had intricate details of surrounding areas, trails, land marks and elevations. 

The catch came with the instructions found with each map.Each of the four igloo teams had been given a different map to review to find the easiest, least exhausting exit from the camp.  Only one of the four maps could be used to guide them through this part of the trip. 

To choose the map to be used, each of the four teams was expected to come up with a compelling list as to why their route should be chosen. No interruptions were allowed during the dissertation and each person was allowed one question after each presentation was heard. A silent vote would then be taken to see which map would be used to take them out. 

The decision finally made they started making ready for their arduous hike the following day. 

On the dawn of the short spring morning of the fifth day, they embarked on their journey to the rendezvous point some eight miles away. It was not going to be an easy trek. But after much deliberation this was the agreed upon route.  Five of the eight men and women had voted in favour; while the other three were adamant there was a better trail once they would reach the top of the summit.

Even as they hiked, the woman with the porcine disposition regaled them with her hypothesis as to why they should take the trail she had found in her map research. It soon became apparent when they reached what they thought to be the halfway point that she had been wrong. Looking down the rock covered escarpment, that she had insisted would be a clear cut trail, the others agreed there was no way they could have traversed safely to the bottom. 

As the afternoon sun was slipping behind the tree line, the eight weary hikers made their way into the clearing where vehicles were waiting for them.

For some the adventure had been an eternity. A five day life time they never wanted to experience again. For others, it had been a time to just figure it all out.