Writing Prompts

When he ran, he even loved the pain, the hurt of running, the burning in his lungs and the spasms that sometimes gripped his calves. He loved it because he knew he could endure the pain, and even go beyond it. He had never pushed himself to the limit but he felt all his reserve strength inside of him: more than strength actually—determination. And it sang to him as he ran, his heart pumping blood joyfully through his body.
                                                 Robert Cormier, The Chocolate War
Prompt: Write a couple of sentences based on something you like to do in the way Cormier described.
     When I swim, it’s like the world falls away from me; breathing ceases to be important; pain never shows up. I am able to separate myself from all of it and only focus on strokes, kicks, and numbers. The water is not my enemy, but neither my friend.

Prompt: Write about a sport you enjoy using only details.
     I’ve always loved swim meets. I like laughing with my friends in between events and the anxiety waiting for the results to be posted; the tightening of every muscle in my body as I stood on the block, my legs pulling back like springs. When the whistle blows, my world becomes a torrent of blue and white and a cacophony of cheering and splashing. The other world ceases to exist until the end, and then it comes crashing back to me.

Prompt: Vividly describe a troll using negative connotations.
     The troll was grotesque, to say the least. His eyes were misshapen, while his spine was forced into a disfigured, hunched position. The repugnant odor of his last meal drifted and settled in the air around him, causing people to shrink away in repulsion and terror.

Prompt: Write about a tradition or habit you have that you do without thinking or questioning.
     Something I can do without thinking is biting on my bottom lip when I’m concentrating on something else. I also crack my knuckles and toes when I’m concentrating or if someone brings it up.

Prompt: Describe yourself doing something from the viewpoint of something inanimate.
Note: I picked an eraser.
     She pulled me out of her backpack away from the staple remover that has severely scarred me so much. It was weird; she usually didn’t use me during ceramics. I soon saw why. There was a blank paper next to where she had put me down, along with her pencil. She was drawing again—which meant I was going to lose more of myself. I’m already small, now I’m going to be smaller. I watched as the lead on paper unfolded into her drawing. Her emotions poured out despite the jeering criticism from her classmates.

Prompt: You have been kidnapped and you kidnappers are forcing you to write a ransom letter to you parents!
     Mom! Dad!
     I have been kidnapped! They’re forcing me to write this letter! They want $500,000 for my safe return. I’m pretty sure one of them is insane or blind. He keeps calling me “daughter”! Help!! They haven’t fed me in two days and I haven’t slept in four. You are to deliver the money to the corner of [street name removed] and [street name removed] and I will be returned safely. Frankly, I want both of them to rot in jail.