Tag Archives: writers

Zom Fu = #677 in Wattpad Horror

Hey 3.5 readers.

Your old pal BQB here.

Check it out.  Zom Fu is #677 in Wattpad Horror:

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If you’re a Wattpadder, maybe consider giving it a vote, or a comment, or some feedback on how I can make it better.  I mean, it’s a tale that involves kung fu AND zombies, so it is already pretty awesome, but if you have suggestions I am all ears.

Thank you 3.5.

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Six Weeks of Toilet Gator Sundays!

Truly, the longest meaningful commitment I’ve ever made…

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Random Things to Blog About #101-125

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#101 – Key lime pie.  Do you always check to make sure the limes used to make it were from the actual Florida Keys before you eat it?

#102 – Favorite card game

#103 – Most embarrassing moment

#104 – Pugs – adorable or ugly?

#105 – Why isn’t ninja an occupation that you can go to college for?

#106 – Shakespeare: overrated or underrated?

#107 – Write a haiku

#108 – Favorite flower

#109 – When it rains, is it God crying or peeing?

#110 – Are the people on television just tiny people that were squeezed into your TV set?

#111 – Your creepiest deja vu experience

#112 – Is it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?

#113 – Name one way you would change the world if you could.

#114 – Is money the most important thing in life or is it the root of all evil?

#115 – What’s your favorite smell?

#116 – What’s your least favorite smell?

#117 – If you were standing in a room where your most and least favorite smells were combined, would you be sad, happy, or conflicted?  (For example, someone puts a warm apple pie and a rotten fish in the same room with you.)

#118 – When was the last time you played with a frisbee?  Why don’t you play frisbee more?

#119 – What’s the most expired food item you have in your kitchen at this very moment?  Take a photo, post it, and write about it.  Once I found a bottle of vinegar from a food store that had been closed in my area for twenty years.  It was hard to tell whether or not it had gone bad because it was vinegar (it always smells bad) but I threw it out to be safe.  I’m not sure why I had vinegar in the first place.  Who the hell uses vinegar anyway?

#120 – If you formed a band, what would it be called?

#121 – Your best memory

#122 – Michael Jackson: Musical genius, incredibly odd weirdo, or both?

#123 – Favorite travel destination

#124 – Isn’t it weird that planes can fly?  I mean, yeah, there are scientists that can explain how planes fly but still, it is hard to wrap your head around it when you really think about it.

#125 – Ketchup – should it go on everything or just some things?  What are those things?  Perhaps you are one of those people who believe it should go on nothing?  What are you, a Communist?

 

 

 

 

 

 

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101 Random Things to Blog About

Hey 3.5 readers.  I heard a rumor that you are also 3.5 writers.

Thus, pulled out of my butt completely at random, here are 101 things that you could write about on your 3.5 blogs:

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#1 – Cats.  Always adorable.  Meow meow.

#2 – Bunnies.  You know if they had smaller ears, they’d just be fat rats.  People only like them for their enormous ears.

#3 – Chocolate.  Mmm mmm, gotta love me some chocolate, girlfriend.

#4 – All your personal problems.  Go ahead.  Share them on the Internet.  What could possibly go wrong?  (My lawyer advises that no one should do this as a lot could go wrong).

#5 – Farts.  Do you know everyone farts?  The Queen of England farts.  Beauty queens fart.  Debutantes fart.  Santa Claus farts.  No one in the history of the world had not ever farted at least once.  Forgive me for the sacrilege, but even Jesus farted.  I can only assume that he turned his farts into bread to feed poor lepers.

#6 – Golf.  Whack a ball.  Walk.  Whack it again.

#7 – The fact that old people have sex.  How old do you think the oldest people to have sex were?  Do you think a hundred year old ever had sex?  Do you think two, one hundred year olds are bumping genitals as we speak?  Come on.  It’s a big world and history is long.  Two one hundred year olds must have gotten together and pounded one out at least one time between caveman times and today.  It’s not only possible it’s virtually impossible that it hasn’t happened at least once.

#8 – Dogs.  Messier than cats.  Nicer than cats.

#9 – Your kids.  Only don’t be dishonest.  Be honest and tell us they are ugly and they will never go anywhere.  (My lawyer says don’t listen to me and don’t talk about your kids on the Internet, even if it is to be honest and tell everyone how smart they are unlike all those parents who put 10,000 photos and stories on Facebook every time one of their spawns burp).

#10 – Art.  Who is your favorite painter?  Do you think Jackson Pollack laughed his way to the bank every time some dummy bought one of his canvases that he just flicked his paint brush all over?

#11 – Cows.  Moo.

#12 – Ducks.  Quack quack.

#14 – What’s your favorite sandwich?

#15 – Favorite pizza topping?

#16 – Favorite movie

#17 – Favorite taco filling?

#18 – Favorite comic book?

#19 – Have you ever farted so loud that it scared you?

#20 – Karate.  Do you know it?  If you don’t, why not?  Do you think someone is going to karate chop muggers for you?

#21 – Root beer tastes better than real beer.  Discuss.

#22 – What is an alternative version of you doing in an alternate universe right now?

#23 – Your favorite type of pie.

#24 – Favorite song.

#25 – Why are zombies so stupid?

#26 – Do chimpanzees really like bananas or is that a vicious chimp stereotype?

#27 – Favorite car.

#28 – Worst movie you have ever seen.

#29 – Worst pickup line you ever heard.

#30 – Worst pickup line used on you.

#31 – A pickup line that worked on you.

#32 – Do aliens exist? (Spoiler alert: Yes!)

#33 – Do you ever wonder what the world will be like in three hundred years?

#34 – The Three Stooges: Complete idiots or misunderstood geniuses.  Discuss.

#35 – Does decaf coffee even make sense?

#36 – Why don’t people walk backwards?

#37 – Do you think the inside of a kangaroo’s pouch looks like a swanky Manhattan bachelor pad?

#38 – Why haven’t fish figured out not to bite hooked worms after thousands of years of human fishing history?  Why are fish such dumbasses?

#39 – Did French people call French Fries just plain old fries?

#40 – Favorite TV show

#41 – Worst TV Show

#42 – Favorite cookie

#43 – Favorite cake

#44 – Favorite number

#45 – Favorite letter

#46 – What would people say about you if they knew for sure that  you’d never hear that they said it?

#47 – Favorite fruit

#48 – Favorite vegetable

#49 – Biting all the chocolates in a box of chocolates until you find the one you want.  Acceptable or not?

#50 – What business would you start if a rich benefactor was willing to give you the startup money?

#51 – Does your butt hurt right now?  Why or why not?

#52 – Mudslide.  Scary weather condition or excellent drink?  Discuss.

#53 – Is every boxing movie just trying to copy Rocky?

#54 – Puffer fish: hilarious or not?

#55 – Why is poop brown even when you didn’t eat anything brown?

#56 – Why don’t people wear capes anymore?

#57 – Why don’t people wear fedoras anymore?

#58 – Why don’t people wear spats anymore?

#59 – Why don’t people wear smoking jackets anymore?

#60 – Your favorite Jean Claude Van Damme movie.

#61 – Favorite crayon

#62 – Favorite dinner recipe

#63 – How long can you hop on one leg without putting your other foot down?

#64 – What’s the most hilarious thing that you are seriously worried about?

#65 – Bugs.  Smush ’em and not blink an eye or try to coax them out the front door so they can live to “Bzz” another day?

#66 – Favorite ice cream flavor

#67 – Favorite place to take a date

#68 – Favorite superhero

#69 – Favorite Bond film

#70 – Favorite Bond villain

#71 – If everyone in the world farted at the exact same time, would the world explode?

#72 – Hobos: hilarious or tragic?

#73 – If you could go on a space voyage to a distant planet but it would take so long that you’d never be able to return to Earth in your lifetime, would you go on it?

#74 – Funniest “Yo Mama” joke.

#75 – Does everything taste better dipped in chocolate?

#76 – Favorite board game

#77 – Biggest bubble you ever blew with a bubble wand

#78 – Favorite singer

#79 – Favorite band

#80 – Why aren’t there anymore rock bands?

#81 – Favorite baked potato topping

#82 – Chili – should it be for breakfast?

#83 – Favorite baseball team

#84 – Favorite football team

#85 – Do you prefer to write with pencils or pens?

#86 – What’s in your pocket right now?

#87 – Favorite TV channel

#88 – Favorite Tyler Perry movie.  Someone out there has one.

#89 – If oranges are orange, why aren’t strawberries called reds?

#90 – Watermelons are neither water nor melon.  Discuss.

#91 – Pancakes are neither pans nor cakes.  Discuss.

#92 – Which rapper would you must like to share a plate of cheesy fries with?

#93 – Worst hairstyle you’ve ever worn

#94 – What are three changes you must make in order to be happy?

#95 – Why do squirrels love nuts?

#96 – Favorite version of Law and Order

#97 – Your favorite joke

#98 – Favorite color

#99 – Favorite amusement park ride

#100 – Your favorite episode of Murder She Wrote.

#101 – Your own list of 101 things to blog about.

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Third Year Anniversary for Bookshelf Battle

Hey 3.5 readers.

Bookshelf Q. Battler here.

Yup.  Three years ago this month, while I was stuffing a burrito into my face hole in a Taco Bell parking lot, the idea to create this amazing blog was born.

In its first year, there was an attempt to be semi-serious and focus on literary discussions.

In year two, it went off the wall with revelations about my magic bookshelf, my hatred of yetis, my best friend Alien Jones, my better half Video Game Rack Fighter, and all the other assorted weirdoes that traipse through BQB HQ on a regular basis.

In year three, I focused on novel production.  I did get a rough draft of a novel finished but I made it so epic in scale that I feel like it will be a lot of work to get it ready and perhaps two more novels could be added that would come before it.

Alas, they’re on the shelf right now (I swear I’ll return to them) and as we enter year four, I have developed a book cover purchasing addiction.  Don’t worry, it is under control, but I feel like it just makes good fiscal sense to write and publish BQB’s Writing Prompts, Zom Fu, Toilet Gator and Zomcation first.

Believe it or not, there’s actually light at the end of the tunnel for BQB’s Writing Prompts. It’s definite that will get published this year.  As for the rest, I’ll work as hard as I can, but alas, I’m not in my twenty year old days where I could just drink a Red Bull and go 24 hours on a project and wake up the next day fresh as a daisy.

In conclusion, I’d like to share a little song I wrote for you:

Thank you for being a friend, 3.5 readers.  You’ve traveled down the road and back again.  Your hearts are true.  You are my pals and my confidants.  And if you threw a party and invited everyone you knew, you would see the biggest gift would be from me and the card attached would say, “Thank you for being a friend.”

Oh wait.  My attorney informs me I did not write that.  That is, in fact, the theme to the Golden Girls.

Oh well.  Thank you for being my 3.5 friends anyway.

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Do You Want to Write a BQB Writing Prompt?

Hey 3.5 readers.

BQB here.

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I’m in the home stretch of BQB’s 101 Writing Prompts book.

In the book, I invite readers to write stories based on the prompts and publish them on their blogs and Tweet me the links.

If anyone is interested, I’d love it if anyone wants to choose a prompt and blog their response.  Maybe the first week the book is out I could put your prompt based writings right here on this fine blog.

Anyone who wants to partake of my prompts, let me know.

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BQB Writing Prompts Book Progress

Well, 3.5 readers.  It finally happened.

I got a draft of a book finished that I felt was worthy enough to print out:c2oksetxuaatafk

I know.  Very exciting.  But this is big.  I believe it will get done and sooner rather than later.

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Writing Prompts – Parting Is Such Sweet Sorrow

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BQB EDITORIAL NOTE – this is my heartfelt plea to get my book readers to come look at this fine website.  Let me know what you think, 3.5.

Parting Is Such Sweet Sorrow

             Are you a baby boomer like my grumpy Uncle Hardass? If so, I thank you for being a far out, groovy, outta sight reader and wish you well with your writing goals. You’re never too old to write. Never let a young whippersnapper tell you otherwise.  Don’t worry.  I hear tie-dye shirts and eight tracks are making a comeback.

Perhaps you are like me, a member of the often ignored Generation X. Sure, that flannel lumberjack shirt in your closet is getting dusty and there just aren’t enough clinically depressed, long haired Seattle based alternative rockers on the radio anymore, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t plenty of time left for you to pen your masterpiece and share it with the world.

Before I go, I’d like to share some wisdom with my millennial readers. (Don’t worry baby boomers and Gen Xers, it’s a free country, so you can read this next part too).

I have heard rumors that at least one of my three point five blog readers was born after 1990, but I have yet to confirm it. Occasionally, I post about things like rotary telephones and dial up modems just to figure out who was born during the Reagan or Clinton administrations. At any rate, if you are a millennial, you have no idea how lucky you have it.

I know. Every up and coming generation hears that. Uncle Hardass said it to me. Uncle Hardass’ uncle said it to him. The wheel of intergenerational complaints never stops spinning.

I’m not saying you have it lucky in life. Hell, I’ve seen the news. You’re probably going to be riding your mother’s basement couch until the next ice age (the cataclysmic event, not the children’s movie, although my condolences because you’ll probably be watching that with your parents too).

I’m saying you have it lucky as a creative person. Consider this thought: There has never been a time in history than the present moment in which creative people have had it so good. 

The good news is that thanks to technology, the so-called traditional publishing gatekeepers have been bypassed. The gate to creative fame is open and the self-publishing “barbarians” (i.e. unvetted folks with work they want to share with the world) are rushing head first toward the promised land of fame and fortune at a lightning pace.

The bad news is there are so many barbarians to contend with that it is easy for an individual barbarian’s voice to be drowned out. I’m sorry. I’ll drop the analogy. Creative people don’t like being called barbarians. Well, I know one guy in East Randomtown who doesn’t mind it so much but that’s a longer story for another time.

Where was I? Oh right. Lecturing the millennials. Millennials, when I was your age, if a creative person wanted to get anywhere, he had to kiss the butt of the assistant to the director of the creative department’s associate vice-president’s cousin’s boyfriend’s dog walker’s taxidermist’s mother-in-law’s pharmacist’s sister’s podiatrist’s acquaintance’s best friend’s support group counselor’s husband’s doctor’s niece’s nephew’s bird trainer in the hopes of getting some sort of introduction into the world of creative prosperity.

Put another way, the gates that held an artist back from living the life of a happy, healthy, financially successful person were sealed shut, locked tight, fortified, and guarded by armed soldiers, laser wielding robots, apache attack helicopters loaded with nuclear missiles and hungry, man eating pit bulls.

In short, way back when, you’d spend a year or two trying to find your “in,” hoping that if you straddle the scene of the publishing industry long enough, a friend’s friend of a friend might sneak you through the gate and help you bypass all of the attack helicopters and pit bulls and so on.

You, the millennial reader, have technology that just didn’t exist when I was twenty. You should still be polite, but you no longer have to kiss butts. You no longer have to completely rely on an introduction from a friend of a friend of a friend. You can take your blog and your social media accounts, post your very best work, and put it all together to form a hypothetical javelin that you can use to leap across that gate and land in the world of creative success. (Note: do keep trying to network. Seek those connections and introductions. Kiss those butts. You might find a butt attached to a person who can help you build your javelin faster or better yet, alleviate your need for a javelin and just open the damn gate for you).

I don’t make promises or guarantees. People who do are, more often than not, charlatans. Maybe you sing like an angel but no one is listening to the track you posted.   Your artwork might be worthy of a museum, but for whatever reason, your online gallery isn’t being bombarded with clicks. Perhaps you have written a book that makes Hemingway’s collective works look like a pile of puke, but readers aren’t finding it. It is possible to work your ass off in the indie game and still loose.

But, millennial reader, what you get courtesy of technology that past generations didn’t have, is a chance. That’s right. A chance. Building an online following takes years. Sure, there’s the occasional overnight success story where someone posts something in the morning and is on the news by suppertime, but for the most part, creative notoriety is a multi-year enterprise.

When I was twenty, the only avenue I had available to me to break into the world of professional writing was to start kissing butts and pray that one day I’d kiss the right combination of butts to make my dream come true. To me, it just seemed like way too many butts. Ultimately, I pursued a path that took me away from my love of the written word because I did the math and I was just not able to afford enough breath mints to compliment all of the the required butt kissing.

Now, with a laptop and a few affordable purchases from your friendly neighborhood electronics store, a whole world opens up to you – a world I never dreamed would ever exist when I was twenty.

Think about it. If you’re a writer today, you can:

  • Write your book.
  • Find an editor to polish it up.
  • Find a designer to provide you with an eye-popping book cover.
  • Inform the world of your masterpiece via social media.
  • Start a blog and use it to promote your work. Turn it into a place where people who are interested in your stories can find you.
  • Record a podcast. Interview other authors. Shoot the breeze about books.
  • Host your own web show. I prefer not to because I have a face for print, but you should turn on your web cam and start talking about your love of writing until the cows come home.

There’s a vibrant online community of self-publishers who will gladly lend you their advice. There’s also a budding industry of what I call “self-publishing support providers,” i.e. editors, cover designers, promoters and so on. (Although, let the buyer beware as some of these folks may be more helpful than others. Shop around, do your due diligence and talk to other customers before you shell out a bunch of money you can’t afford to lose).

In the end, you might invest a lot of time, money, and effort into a self-publishing endeavor only to fall flat on your face. But, and this is a big but (not to be confused with the big butts that Sir Mix-a-Lot wasn’t able to lie about), you get a chance.

Back when I was twenty, in nineteen hundred and whatever, up your nose with a rubber hose, you don’t need to know the exact year, I would have bare knuckled boxed a thousand meth addicted hobos, sailed across every ocean in the world, climbed the tallest mountain, and fought off a pack of angry wolves just to get a chance to make my dreams of becoming a professional writer come true.

If you’re a twenty year old, don’t blow your chance. Start your blog.   Launch your podcast. Throw caution to the wind and host your own web show. Be cautiously optimistic. Remember, the Internet is forever so don’t do something online that will make you unemployed and unemployable, but at the same time, revel in the fact that you have a chance. A career as a writer that isn’t built on a long line of kissed butts is theoretically possible, and hypothetically within your reach.

Baby boomers and Gen Xers, you should still embrace this technology, but millenials, you are in the best position to do so. Start a blog when you are twenty and you may just find yourself lousy with an astronomical amount of readers by the time you hit thirty. (You’ll need them to help you adjust to the new normal of what it is like to be thirty).

Then again, what do I know? I just run a blog with a mere three point five readers. At any rate, I hope you enjoyed this book. Take these prompts. Use them as clay to build the bricks of your own stories. Don’t forget to post your prompt inspired works on your blogs and share them with me. My favorite time wasting social media sites are Twitter, where I am @bookshelfbattle and that Zuckerbergian monstrosity known as Facebook, where I am @bookshelfqbattler.

Better yet, bookshelfbattle.com is my online haven. Do stop by. My three point five readers are very lonely. Just don’t feed the Yeti. He’s fat enough as it is. Also, he eats people.

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Glengarry Glen Ross: Self-Publishing Edition (Or, Always Be Self-Publishing)

BQB’s EDITORIAL NOTE:  3.5 readers, I heard a rumor you guys are struggling with your self-publishing ventures lately, so I invited a special guest speaker to come in and motivate you.  Please welcome a young Alec Baldwin in his prime.

Blake:

Let me have your attention for a moment!  So you’re talking about what?  You’re talking about…(puts out his cigarette)…bitching about that book launch you shot, some son of a bitch reader that doesn’t want to read your book, somebody that doesn’t want to read what you’re writing, some broad you’re trying to screw but she won’t screw you because writers never get laid and so forth.  Let’s talk about something important.  Are they all here?

Williamson:

All but one.

Blake: 

Well, I’m going anyway.  Let’s talk about something important.  (To Levene) Put that coffee down!  Coffee’s for self-publishers only.  (Levene scoffs).  Do you think I’m fucking with you?  I am not fucking with you.  I’m here from downtown.  I’m here from a primo e-book sales site.  I’m here on a mission of mercy.  Your name’s Levene?

Levene:

Yeah.

Blake:

You call yourself a self-publisher, you son of a bitch?

Moss:

I don’t have to listen to this shit.

Blake:

You certainly don’t, pal.  ‘Cause the good news is you’re fired from my platform.  The bad news is you’ve got, all you got, just one week to regain your jobs as self-publishers, starting tonight.  Starting with tonight’s word count session.  Oh, have I got your attention now?  Good.  ‘Cause we’re adding a little something to this month’s self-publishing contest.  As you all know, first prize is a Cadillac El Dorado.  Anyone want to see second prize?  Second prize is a box of steak knives.  (Holds up box of knives).

Third prize is you’re fired.  You get the picture.  You laughing now?  You’ve got words.  That fuck who wrote the dictionary went to a lot of trouble to get you those words.  Think about the right word combinations and write them!

You can’t finish writing a book with the words you’ve been given then you can’t write for shit.  You ARE shit, so hit the bricks pal and beat it because you are going out!

Levene:

The words are weak.

Blake:

‘The words are weak.’  The fucking words are weak?  You’re weak. I’ve been in the self-publishing business for fifteen years.  That’s right.  I went back in time and told myself to start self-publishing before any of this shit was even invented.

Moss:

What’s your name?

Blake:

Fuck you!  That’s my name.  You know why, Mister?  Because you wrote your novel tonight on a bargain basement, second hand Dell and I wrote my novel on a state of the art, top of the line Mac Book Pro.  That’s my name!

(To Levene) – And your name is “you’re wanting to self-publish but you’re too chicken shit to get off your ass and do it.”  You can’t play in a man’s game.  You can’t close out a book.

(To Everyone) – Because only one thing counts in this life!  Get readers to read your books!  Do you hear me, you fucking losers?

(Blake points to a blackboard.  Two sets of letters are written on it:  “ABS” and “ADIY.”)

Blake:

A-B-C.  A-always, B-be, S-self-publishing.  Always be self-publishing!  Always be self-publishing.

A-D-I-Y.  Always Do It Yourself.  Stop waiting for those traditional publishing pricks to give you the keys to the golden kingdom because it’s never going to happen.  Are you going to do it yourself?  I know you are because it’s fuck or walk.  You self-publish or you hit the bricks!

Do it yourself!  Who else are you going to do it for?  Christ?  Take action.  Get out there!

You’ve got the readers coming in.  You think they came in to get out of the rain?  The guy doesn’t come to your online book sales page unless he wants to read.  He is sitting out there waiting to give you his money!

Are you gonna take it?  Are you man enough to take it?  (to Moss) What’s the problem pal?  You!  Moss!

Moss:

You’re such a hero.  You’re so rich.  Why are you coming down here just to waste your time on a bunch of bums?

(Blake takes off his gold watch and shows it to Moss).

Blake:

You see this watch?  You see this watch?

Moss:

Yeah.

Blake:

This watch costs more than your car.  I made $970,000 on self-publishing last year, mostly on one book that had a really descriptive scene about a giant pair of titties.  How much did you make?  You see, pal, that’s who I am.  And you’re nothing.  Nice guy?  I don’t give a shit.  Good father?  Fuck you.  Go home and play with your kids.

(To everyone) – You want to self-publish here?  Finish writing a book!  You think this is abuse?  You think this is abuse, you cocksuckers?  You can’t take this, how are you going to take it when your book gets a one star review?

You don’t like it?  Leave.  I can go out there tonight with the words you’ve got and write myself fifteen thousand books.  Tonight!  In two hours!  Can you?  Can you?  Go and do likewise!

A-D-I-Y!  Get mad!  Get mad, you sons of bitches!  You know what it takes to sell books?

(Blake pulls a set of brass balls out of his brief case and dangles it in front of his crotch).

Blake:

It takes a set of brass balls to sell books.

Go and do likewise, gents.  The money’s out there.  You pick it up?  It’s yours.  You don’t?  I have no sympathy for you.  You wanna go out on those word count sessions tonight and rack up big counts then those words are yours.  If not, you’re going to be shining my shoes.

Bunch of losers sitting around in a bar.  (Speaks in a sad tone).  “Oh yeah, I used to be a self-publisher.  It’s a tough racket.”

(Blake takes a stack of index cards out of his briefcase).

These are the new words.  These are the Glengarry words.  And to you, they’re gold.  And you don’t get them.  Why?  Because to give these words to you would be to just throw them away.

These words are for self-publishers.  I’d wish you good luck but you wouldn’t know what to do with it if you got it.

(To Moss) – And to answer your question, pal.  Why am I here?  I came here because the book sales site asked me to.  They asked me for a favor.  I said, ‘The real favor?  Follow my advice and fire your fucking ass because a loser is a loser.’

(Blake heads into interior office).

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Writing Prompts – Misc Prompts

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The prompts that were left on the cutting room floor…

Mean Candy Streets

Imagine a buddy cop drama filled with intensity and high stakes.  The cops are stressed.  The criminals are vile.  The catch?  Everything is made out of candy.  The streets are paved with taffy.  Guns are made out of bubble gum and shoot gum drops instead of bullets.  Handcuffs are just two licorice ropes tied together.

Stuck on a scenario?  What if a gang of hoodlums rob the First National Bank and speed away with a big haul of chocolate coins?

Chicken Rampage

Gassy’s Fast Eats, the world’s number one provider of waistline expanding fast food, dispatches a team of scientists to breed super fat chickens.  Alas, the experiment works too well.  A fifty foot tall chicken, dubbed “Chickzilla” by the press, gets loose and starts destroying the city.  How can this porky poultry be stopped?

Where Everyone Knows What You Are Thinking

Everyone in the world wakes up with the ability to read each other’s minds.  Boon because now no one has to guess at how to make their friends and family happy or bust because some thoughts are better left unexpressed?

Bicycle Wars

A massive electromagnetic pulse explosion renders all electronic devices.  Scientists estimate it will be at least a hundred years before any gadgets can be used again.  Will people find a new way to ignore one another or will they (gasp) start talking to each other?

Social Media Chaos

Burt Schmamadoo of Dubuque, MN is eating lunch in his car one day when a thought pops into his head that he finds humorous.  Thinking it to be little more than a casual musing, he posts it on his favorite time wasting social media site.  Hours late, war breaks out.  Burt’s post went viral within a matter of seconds and worldwide factions have turned violent over a raging debate as to whether or not Burt’s post was astute or off the mark.

What did Burt say in his post?  What can he post to bring about peace?

Fish Bowl

Fish are humans and walk on their fins.  They breathe air and go to work and everything.  Meanwhile, humans are fish.  They are small and are forced to live in little bowls of water that they swim around and poop in all day.

Discuss.

Tennis Pro

Margaret sells her soul to the devil in order to achieve her dream of becoming a nationally recognized tennis player.  Satan, not without a sense of humor, arranges for Margaret to be framed and convicted on gruesome murder charges.  The case is so high profile that the it is frequently brought up on the nightly news.  In other words, Margaret has become a “nationally recognized tennis player,” albeit she is nationally recognized as a murderer instead of as a tennis pro.

Jot down what happens next.  Will she burn in hell forever or will she figure out a loophole that wins her soul back?

Sidenote:  Never sell your soul to the devil, kids.  He’s got a twisted sense of humor and will find all sorts of technicalities to screw you over with.

New and Improved Pies

Apple?  Schmapple.  Strawberry?  More like Scrapberry.  Blueberry?  Bleh-berry.

Custard.  Lemon meringue.  Key lime.  Forget every kind of pie you know and love.

Dream up three new flavors of pie that you think would be delicious.  Heck, bake them if you want.  Don’t forget to save me a slice.

Writer’s Block

Jeff is an aspiring writer.  Sadly, he experiences a dry spell, going for weeks without writing a single world.

One day, this noble scribe opens up his closet and sees something that makes his heart swell and his mind race.  Better yet, he becomes so inspired that he writes a bestseller.

What did Jeff see?  Why did it get his brain gears turning?

The Future is Now

Select three products that exist that you never dreamed about when you are kid.  What makes these items so special?

Write a letter to your younger self.  Describe these three items, keeping in mind that you have to use terms your younger self will understand.

Eggsplosion

Eggs.  Eggs are everywhere!

Xavier arrives home at his usually spotless mansion only to find eggs sitting on every surface in the entire joint.

Eggs on the sofa.  Eggs on the TV.  Eggs in the sink.  Eggs on the table.  Eggs in all of the drawers, in the medicine cabinet and even in the crawlspace.

Bewildered by this development, Xavier sits down on his couch.  He ponders what to do next until…kaboom!  All of the eggs explode at the same time, leaving this young man with egg on his face.

Weave the strange tale of how all those eggs got there.

Love in a Sewer

Becky and Dan are just a couple of wacky kids who meet…in a sewer.  Yes, a sewer.  Love can happen anywhere, right?

Come up with a story about how these two lovebirds, against all of the odds, as well as against all of the rats, foul smells, and flushed alligators find love.

Yummy Moon

You’ve crash landed your spaceship on the moon.  You didn’t bring any food with you.  Luckily, the moon really is made out of cheese, and that cheese is delicious.  Oddly enough, a previous space traveler has left a big box of crackers behind.

You eat, and eat, and eat until there’s just one tiny patch of moon left for you to sit on.  You barely fit on it.  Suddenly, your tummy rumbles.  You are hungry again.

Do you eat your seat or do you have some willpower in order to avoid drifting off into the cosmos?

Mango Chutney

Annie, Nelson’s wife of thirty years, starts screaming the words, “Mango Chutney!” over and over again.  At first, he thinks she’s just suffering some sort of temporary mental breakdown, but when it gets to the point where he can’t take his beloved out in public anymore, he seeks professional help.

Pretend you are that professional.  Tell us why Annie can’t stop screaming, “Mango Chutney!”

 

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