WRITING FICTION
Back in August, I felt like I was in the biggest rut of my life. I wanted to go back to school but didn't want to deal with the stress of multiple classes. My goal now and for the rest of my life is to write. So, I went online and started looking for some writing classes and came across the Gotham Writers Workshop. I fell in love because the courses took place in New York. I signed up for a ten-week program and wanted to share my progress. I'm currently in the Writing Fiction class and can't wait to take the other classes that they have to offer. I hope you enjoy the prompts I have worked on thus far.
-H.C. Abiona
10/4/23 - 12/13/23
Three Songs
What on earth should I write about? When in doubt, I like to turn to making a list of things. This is one of my favorite lists for this exercise and for your first assignment, I want you to make a list of 5 songs.
Make a list of 3 songs that have any kind of personal connection to you.
Choose the one song that has the most resonance for you from this list. Is it from a memorable time in your life? What does it make you think of? What year did it come out? What was happening in the world, your world, at that time? Fictionalize it as much or as little as you want to. I don't want you to write about the song itself. I don't even need to know what song it is! I do want to read about what your chosen song inspired you to write about. (for instance, the song "Abracadabra" by the Steve Miller band always brings me right back to being eleven years old, too plump to fit into a jumpsuit, and the summer before my parents split up.)
This is a great way to get your brain engaged and it's a nice way for me to get to know a little more about you and your writing. Have fun! This might even become the start of something wonderful...
(Try Me- The Weeknd)
I kept my hands in my lap, not really knowing what to do with them. Should I be doing something sexy? Playing with his hair? Or rubbing one of them along his thigh? Just the smell of him alone is driving me crazy. I’ve always loved that fresh laundry scent. He made another right turn, asking if I was familiar with the area. And I honestly wasn’t familiar with it at all, despite working a few blocks over the last four years. I told him I was fine if we just parked in a secluded area where no one could see us. Not like I was a newbie fooling around in the back seat. I swallowed, the reminder of Bud Lite on my tongue. I don’t know how people enjoy the taste of it… but he gulped it down like a man dying of thirst. My brain was doing backflips as he found a spot to park. Meeting him for the first time was so different than talking to him on the phone. My mask of confidence was falling and the beer didn’t do anything to keep it in place.
He’s 6’5” … How the hell are we going to manage this in his little Honda Accord? I climbed into the back seat as he opened his door to move the seats up to give us more room. My heart was pounding in my ears as I gave my armpits a quick sniff. Nothing worse than bad BO. I watched with shaking hands as he climbed back into the car. The silence was deafening as we both stared at each other, waiting to see who was going to make the first move. Luckily it was him because my confidence had flown out the door before he even closed it. I held my breath as his hand moved up my arm to my shoulder and then looped his fingers around the back of my neck. His grip was stern but hesitant, waiting for me to give him the green light. I leaned forward placing my hands on his thighs as he pulled me into a kiss.
Every tensed muscle released all at once as he kissed me. It was like taking a hot shower after a stressful day. I parted my lips allowing his tongue to brush along my bottom lip. I was at a loss when it came to my hands. It shouldn’t be this hard to figure out what to do. I lifted them to wrap around his neck but froze, quickly dropping them back down to his thighs. I’m sure he can sense my frustration and I’m probably killing the vibe. Then his arm wrapped around my back, pulling me in closer and the hard stature of his body made me quiver. A real moan escaped my lips as he kissed down my neck. How is it that none of the other guys made me feel things like this? His hands slipped under my shirt and lifted my bra, as his rough nimble fingers played with my nipples. God, I wanted to scream but the only thing I could do was gasp for air. He was taking my breath away with just the work of his lips and fingers. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he reached for the waistband of my leggings. Even though the car was dark, I could see the arousal burning deep in his eyes, making me so incredibly wet…
The Crying Man
A man and a woman are in a crowded restaurant. The man is crying and the woman is trying to comfort him, but also looking embarrassed. Let us see this moment, through three different eyes: The man, the woman, and the waiter or waitress. Write just a paragraph or so from each of these points of view. Each passage will describe the exact same thing—the man crying while the woman tries to comfort him. You may use either FIRST or THIRD person (you can even use different ones for different characters). If you use dialogue, keep it to a minimum.
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The Woman- It felt as if I had ants on my skin. Their tiny legs crawling all over my shoulders and arms. This must be the thing my sister Marie is always talking about… getting the ick from men. Three years of tears from your significant other and not one tear of your own. Mike sheds tears like a woman changing her panties. He sheds them for the both of us. But now… shedding them in public is making my blood pressure rise. People are watching. The old couple in the corner, the owner occasionally looking over at our table, and the dog on the floor next to our table… watching a twenty-eight year old man cry. God, someone needs to get this man an Oscar because he is really putting on a show. You would think he would’ve noticed how much I’ve pulled away from him. Over the last six months, I’ve gone on our walks without him, stopped making him coffee in the morning, and I don’t even wait up anymore when he comes home from work. Our relationship has become a job and I can’t bring myself to do it anymore. He finally lifts his head with one loud gut-wrenching sniffle, eyes puffy and red, and takes hold of my hand.
The Man- “I just don’t understand what I did wrong. You told me that you loved me this morning,” I said using the back of my free hand to wipe my nose. I know people are watching but I don’t care. You can’t just shut off your feelings like the way she is right now. I never thought heartache could feel like this. It’s like a tear in a muscle, the ache and throb just won’t go away.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just not feeling it anymore,” Bethany whispered, her eyes on everyone else but me.
“You’re not feeling ‘it’? What the fuck is ‘it’, Bethany? Last time I checked, we were fine.” Her eyes shot in my direction like daggers.
“Will you please keep your voice down? You’re making a scene,” she snapped. My mouth felt like sandpaper. I’m making a scene? You’re the one breaking up with me at our favorite restaurant during happy hour. “Now, I’m going to go have a smoke. Collect yourself so we can talk like civilized adults, she replied grabbing her pack of Marlboro cigarettes and cheap blue lighter. I watched as she excused herself through the crowd as if it were just another Tuesday. No tears. No pain… just plain old Bethany. Rid of all emotions. My mother was right, she was never going to change.
The Waitress- I was hesitant to walk up to the table. Should I give him some time to compose himself or will my manager be a dick and say that I’m taking too long with my tables. Every other Tuesday this couple comes in for Happy Hour to get the five-dollar taco special and margaritas. Not once have I seen them like this. Cold and distant on her part. There is usually a sparkle in her eye and they’re both full of laughter. My stomach dropped as I watched him reach into his pocket and pull out a small box. Holy shit… she must have said no for him to be crying. So many people were looking and judging him, but no one was going over to console him. What is wrong with the human race? I rushed to the back, grabbing a stack of napkins and a glass of water. Chills rushed up my spine as I stepped into the spotlight, placing the items down in front of him.
“Thank you,” he whispered. The look of gratitude made my heart swell. “Would you mind bringing out a shot of Don Julio?” He asked trying to bring some humor to his tone.
“Sure thing. I’ll even make it a double on me,” I replied heading back into the kitchen.
A Murder Scene
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Your assignment is to write a description of a barn from the mind of a person who has just committed murder: The barn is red.
Remember-- the key here is to see it in first person or a close third, a description of the mind, of a recent murderer. The person is already dead.
DO NOT MENTION THE MURDER.
Keep it short and intense.
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The Sun was excruciatingly harsh today. Any other day, it brings a warmth to my always cold flesh but today… it knows what I’ve done. I feel like cheese melting on a pizza in a brick oven. The blood splatter drying on my face. The blade piercing my husband’s chest plays vividly in my mind. One… two… three times, I started to lose count the more I thought about how often he was with her when he should’ve been with me. I turned away from the accusing Sunlight, looking down at my crimson-red hands. I am a sinner in the hands of an angry God…
The color matched the barn. Tears swelled in my eyes as I remembered the day he helped my father paint this barn. Those were the days that were full of hugs, kisses… and love. A husband painted this barn…. Not what lies inside of it now. A snake was brought to its knees, begging for my forgiveness. Eyes filled with dread as the realization hit that I had finally cracked. I reached into my pocket as the wind lightly kissed my cheeks, letting me know that it was okay. Reassuring me that I’ve done what was right. I pulled out my lighter as my hot skin became cool. I have to finish the job.
Dialogue of the Day
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Write down a conversation you had today with someone, sticking as close as possible to the actual real-world conversation. Just use the words spoken, nothing else. Now, whittle this conversation down to just four lines total, two lines for each character. From just these four lines, let a sense of the characters and the situation emerge. Make it interesting this time, and feel free to fictionalize.
Letting out a huff, I adjusted the phone on my shoulder and gave up on the search through my book bag.
"I forgot my inhalers at home in my purse," I said as my chest tightened.
"Are you on the train already? You're going to need it," my dad whispered. Sometimes when he would call me, he had to keep his voice down in case one of his bosses walked in the room. I wouldn't want him to get in trouble, but he is terrible at texting, which is so much easier.
"Yes, I'm on the train. I was walking fast because I didn't want to miss it," I said closing my eyes. Counting by twos has always been a great way to distract myself from having a full-blown asthma attack. "I packed my bag last night and was so tired that I forgot it. And my backup is in my purse as well."
"It's very important to make sure you always have it. That should've been the first thing you packed," he replied, making my stomach uneasy. I hated being scolded like a child, but my dad was right. I have been so forgetful lately, especially with my Epipen. "Make sure you call me when you get to class so that I know you are okay," he said before hanging up the phone. The breath I had been holding in came out in a long deep sigh as the anxiety eased from my shoulders.
Voice
Voice and style are based on things like sentence length, word choice, and sentence structure. This is a prompt from Sari Botton via Abigail Thomas via Laurie Stone: write a short piece using only three-word sentences.
For instance: We shopped today. I ate nuggets. They weren’t free. Richard looked away. It was raining. He wanted lox. I said, “Sure.” He bagged bananas. We were walking. He said, “Honey.” I said, “What.” He leaned in. I smelled cake. He looked happy. I was imagining. He said, “Hard.” I said, “What?” He said, “Salami.” He’s the eater. I’m the cook. Sometimes people switch. Guests were arriving. I carried plates. He cut celery. Ice cream melted. Love stops time.
This will invariably be very different from how you normally write. Forcing yourself to write in a radically different style might force you to consider the choices you already are making without much thought. Have fun and enjoy the process!
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I walked by. He's so handsome. Drop dead sexy! He's on his phone. Our shoulders touch. he turns around. My stomach flutters. He said "Hi." I smile instead. I can't speak. he eyebrows rise. I said "Hello." He's wearing green. My favorite color. He asked me. "What's your name?" I replied "Autumn." He said "Matthew." He steps forward. My body tightens. "You smell nice." I said "Thanks." He said "Later." He walks away. My body relaxes. He noticed me.
Theme
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Write about a character doing some mundane task—ironing, cleaning the bathroom, entering numbers in a spreadsheet, etc. Just describe the person doing the task.
Now, think of a theme that may go with what you’ve written. Then, rewrite the piece with the theme in mind.
Write the theme as the title of the piece. I encourage you to do both steps. But only turn in the one written with the theme in mind. Have FUN!
Time Management
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I made sure that dinner was easy tonight. Cooked ground beef. Tomato sauce was thrown on top with a hint of sugar just the way he liked. Pasta and salt in the water, boiled, strained, and into the pot of Spaghetti sauce. I have to be quick and ignore the gnawing pain in my stomach. The baby is going to have to learn to wait…. Just like I have learned to wait. We don’t need another episode like we had last night. I rush over to the bar, and grab one of the three Rocks Glasses, filling the glass ¾ of the way with cubed ice. My eyes dart to the clock on the wall. 6:55 pm. He’s always on time on Wednesdays… sometimes even early. Hurry up.
My hands shook as I glanced over at the mirror. What a shiner he left this time. All because the little gremlin he put inside of me wanted to knock around in my stomach yesterday. Maybe he won’t mind that I’m not wearing makeup today.
My hands move quickly as I mix the contents together. Two parts spirit, One part sweet, and one part sour. Add garnish. Yesterday I made the mistake of adding a lemon peel when I should have added an orange. The hair on my neck stood to attention as I heard the garage door opening. Shit. Shit shit. I grabbed hold of his drink and rushed up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Don’t spill. Don’t spill. I made it to the door just as it was swinging open. My smile was put in place just like I rehearsed as I held my breath. I looked over at the clock on the kitchen stove. 6:59 pm. He’s early. My eyes met with my husband's cold ones, almost as if he were preparing for me to fail.
“Hello, my love,” I said passing him the glass in my hands. He brought it to his lips, taking a long sip and exhaling. Please be alright… I can’t take another blow tonight. His expression softens and he leans in to kiss my cheek.
“Hello. What’s for dinner?” I watch as he walks over to the kitchen counter and puts his briefcase down. I slowly let out the breath I was holding in, not giving anything away.
“Spaghetti,” I reply, walking over to make his plate as the tension eases from my shoulders.
Revision
The real writing often comes with revision. Take a section of your own work, no more than 250 words. Revise that section making it better- whatever that means for you. Then show both versions, labeling them “before” and “after.” Write a few notes on how you improved the first version. This assignment is harder than it looks! Getting comfortable with this process is necessary to become a stronger writer. I'm excited to see what you come up with!
Before
“Did you need a ride home, Sweet pea?” Spice asked. I shook my head. I needed to go for a walk and clear my head. Ron’s place is only a few blocks away. I put the envelope in my purse, grabbed my duffle bag of stuff, and followed them out the back door. The light from the full moon made it easier to see down the alleyway. It was a chilly night and I wish I would have brought my jacket. This pencil skirt and thin blouse did nothing to keep me warm. As soon as I get back to Ron’s apartment, I am going to take a long hot bath.
I reached the end of the alleyway and noticed a dark blue van with tinted windows. That’s strange, I saw that van earlier tonight when I first got to work. Ignoring it, I kept on walking down the road. The engine came to life and I could hear it slowly following behind me. Good thing there were still a few people out on the sidewalks at the different bars and nightclubs. Then my heart dropped when the van pulled up next to me and the tinted windows rolled down. A dark- skinned man with a gash right above his lip and sunglasses stuck his head out the passenger side.
“Diamond?” His voice was low and scratchy.
“Wrong girl,” I lied. I know he could hear the tremor in my voice. He looked back at the two other men and I watched as he whispered to them. My throat tightened and I couldn’t bring myself to move. I know these guys…. These were some of the men that would do business with Maxwell. I knew he’d find me… he always finds me. Once I saw him show the other two a picture on his phone, I dropped my duffle bag, and took off down the road in my five-inch heels. My heart raced as I willed myself to keep running. Don’t stop… don’t stop… keep moving. Their footsteps trampled behind me as they screamed and cursed. I took a sharp right and cut through a back alley. Please God, let me get out of this alive. The sweat from my forehead dripped down into my eyes, blurring my vision when I jumped over a garbage can. Their steps and screams were getting closer. Then as I went to turn the corner, my heel caught in a ventilation grate and I went down.
After
“Did you need a ride home, Sweet pea?” Spice asked. I shook my head. I needed to go for a walk to ease my mind and Ron’s apartment was only a few blocks away. My body tensed when I felt a pair of arms wrap around me. “Take care of yourself, sweetie. You’re gonna do big things, I can feel it.” Slowly I relaxed, wrapping my arms around her, returning the hug. Man, I’m going to miss Spice. I don’t think I could have handled this job if she wasn’t here to help me.
As she pulled away, her hand brushed past her eye wiping away a stray tear. “I’ve always hated goodbyes,” she admitted. I picked up the envelope off the table and stuffed it into my purse.
“Maybe we can grab lunch next week,” I said giving her a reassuring smile. I need all the good people I can get to stay sane in this crazy ass world.
“I’d like that,” she said picking up her garment bag. I grabbed my duffle bag, kissed my two fingers and smeared my red lipstick on the mirror, before following the rest of the girls out the back door. Each of them scattered off to their cars as I took in the beauty of the moon. I love a full moon. A cool breeze swept up my legs as I walked down the moonlit alleyway. Damn, I wish I would have brought my jacket. This pencil skirt and thin blouse are doing a lousy job of keeping me warm. The first thing on my agenda when I make it back to Ron’s is a long hot bath. Mmmm… and a nice cup of hot chocolate with extra marshmallows.
I reached the end of the alleyway, taking in how the streetlights cast down an eerie glow as some of them flickered. It was like something out of a horror film. My eyes landed on a dark blue van with tinted windows, lurking across the street. It must have broken down because it has been here since the beginning of my shift. Goosebumps formed all over my arms as the engine roared to life. I turned on my heels, keeping a quick and steady pace, ignoring the hairs suddenly sticking up on the back of my neck. Pebbles popped and glass crunched underneath the tires as the car crept up alongside of me. My heart dropped into my stomach as I saw the tinted window roll down out of the corner of my eye. A dark-skinned man with a gash right above his lip, stuck his head out the passenger window, barking for my attention.
“Diamond?” His voice was scratchy and low and shook me to my core. I pulled a few stray curls in front of my face, keeping my eyes away from his.
“Wrong girl.” The tremor in my voice was a dead giveaway and did nothing to ease my nerves. He looked back at the two other men and I trembled as he whispered to them. The streets were empty and the last person I saw, finished his cigarette and made his way back into a bar. I was alone.
I know who these guys are and they sure as hell know who I am. I’ve seen them do “business” with Maxwell. I knew he’d find me… he always finds me. The air left my lungs as the driver pulled out his phone and showed them my picture. Panic set in as I dropped my duffle bag and purse, taking off down the road in my five-inch heels. My heart was pumping fast as I pushed myself to keep running.
Don’t stop…
Don’t Stop…
KEEP RUNNING!
I could hear their curse words and screams as they trampled behind me. Feet hitting the pavement. My heartbeat thumping in my ears. And my conscience screaming at the top of her lungs; Keep fucking running! I took a sharp right, cutting through another back alley. Please God, let me get out of this alive. The sweat from my forehead dripped down into my eyes, blurring my vision as I jumped over a fallen garbage can. Their steps and screams were getting closer. A breathless “help” escaped my lips as I saw the headlights of a passing car. I was not even two feet from the corner when my right heel caught in a ventilation grate and I hit the ground.
“I added more dialogue in the beginning between Diamond and Spice because I wanted to show their close relationship. Even though she was only briefly talked about throughout the story, Spice was very helpful in Diamond’s career as a dancer. She helped her cope with her uncomfortable feelings around certain men and Spice cared for her very much. As far as the other scene, I wanted to give it more of an eerie vibe. A woman walking home by herself late at night while also hiding from her crazy ex. I also wanted to add some more descriptive details about her surroundings.” -Hannah A.