Writing Prompt: Ant at a Picnic

I found a fun writing prompt. You have to write for at least ten minutes about an ant at a picnic. Here's my story! :D

There were two humans; a boy and a girl. The girl was tall with blonde hair so yellow, it was bound to be dyed. The boy was short and had light brown hair that covered his eyes. He was constantly flipping it around in a very annoying way. They were laughing hysterically at the corniest jokes and feeding each other grapes. It was disgusting.
I darted through the grass, my antennas flying around in the wind. As I got closer to the picnic blanket I crept quietly. The checkered blanket was covered in fruits and sandwiches. This was every ant’s dream. A feast fit for a colony.
I hid behind the picnic basket and watched the humans eat and laugh eat and laugh. It was very boring and I was hungry. When they were making soppy faces at each other I took a chance and dashed for a crumb. They didn’t notice and I ate it right away. I hid behind the basket again and looked for another tasty morsel. I saw a squished grape and sucked the juice to wash down the crumb. And, once again, I hid behind the basket. I probably didn’t need to, though, since these humans were obviously oblivious of their surroundings.
I decided to have a little fun with the human girl. I started to walk as fast as my little legs could carry me towards the girl’s pants leg. I tried to climb up her leg, but she was wearing jeggings, and I knew there was no way I would fit through those tight bottoms. So I went for the boy instead.
I had to keep myself from gagging as I crawled up the boy’s pants. He needed a shower with lots of soap and some tomato juice to get rid of the stink. It was worse as I crawled up his shirt near his armpits. Did he even know what the word “deodorant” meant?
The boy hadn’t noticed me the entire time, but when I got to his neck he faltered in the middle of his sentence and scratched his shoulder a little. I climbed up to his face and he started to scratch his nose. After a little while he started scratching like a giant, stupid, baboon. The girl laughed nervously and stared at him with a strange expression.
“Ant!” she suddenly screamed. “There’s an ant on your face!”
The boy looked down and saw me. I smiled and waved. They both started yelling like crazy as I ran away with a satisfied smirk on my face.

Now I challenge all of you to write your own "Ant at a Picnic" story. Write it, post it on your blog, and challenge all of YOUR friends. Have fun! :D

Writing Prompt

I took a writing prompt from my book Writing Magic and wrote a short story. The prompt was to write a short story by starting it with the sentence, "Ms. Fleming's wig had gone missing."

Ms. Fleming’s wig had gone missing. And whoever stole her wig was going to get an earful of her shouting and a noseful of her bad breath.

Ms. Fleming is an old pain in the neck. She has eyes like an eagle and a nose in the shape of a hawk’s beak. Her head looks too big for her body and her accessories look like costume jewelry. She’s too skinny and when she puts her high heels on, she’s almost painfully tall. Her makeup is cheap and she uses too much of it and when she’s not wearing a blindingly vibrant dress, she’s wearing a floral shirt and plaid pants or polka dots and stripes.

She’ll come into class each day with the day’s newspaper and a cup of coffee. She’ll sit down at her desk and tell us to read chapter five and complete the worksheet. Then she puts her high heeled feet up on the desk and open up the newspaper.

After recess, all the kids in my class went inside and waited for Ms. Fleming. She must’ve gone to the teachers’ lounge. I was the last kid inside and I immediately noticed that her prized, snow-white wig wasn’t sitting on her desk as it usually was after recess.

Ms. Fleming entered the room. Her hair was short and very gray; where as her wig was white and elegant. She gasped and pointed a stubby finger at the desk. Her huge, black eyes widened, making her look like one of those stuffed animals with eyes the size of ping-pong balls.

“Who-what-I!” she stuttered.

Her nostrils flared and she looked at each and every student, her eyes sweeping the room. I suddenly felt very hot and nervous.

“I demand to know who did this!” She screeched.

The class was silent. I sat very still and tried not to blink.

Her stomach rose and fell very fast.

She started to march back in forth in front of the class, as if doing this would make her look bigger, scarier.

“Well? Anyone?”

It was so quiet, you would be able to hear a pin drop to the floor.

Ms. Fleming’s mouth curved slowly into a smile; no, a sneer.

“Well, then. Your parents won’t be very happy to hear that you’ve all earned detention!”

“What?” Alexis Sparks burst out from the front of the classroom.

“But that’s not fair!” Added Jordan Jones, who was busy loading a spitball into a straw.

“Oh, it’s fair!” Ms. Fleming’s eyes were widened in joy and her smile was evil. She looked like she had gone mad. “And from now on, for the rest of the month, you will have detention!”

“But-!” Samantha Smith started.

“Two months of detention!” Ms. Fleming raised a shaking finger. “Want to make it three?”

The entire class started yelling protests and Ms. Fleming started yelling back. I tried to block out the noise by humming to myself when I noticed something white on the ceiling. It was Ms. Fleming’s wig! Someone had glued it there. The wig fell onto Ms. Fleming’s head. But she was too busy yelling to notice. The class, though, stopped and stared at her head.

“Ms. Fleming,” I said cautiously, raising my hand. “Your wig is on your head.”

Ms. Fleming stopped and cocked her head slightly, causing the wig to look very lopsided.

“How’s that?” She looked confused.

“Your wig is on your head.”

She patted her head and the wig fell into place. She kept feeling the wig and a look of utter bewilderment fell upon her face.

“I must be going senile,” she muttered.

Unjournaling Again

I LOVE THIS BOOK! :D Here are some more exercises.

Write a paragraph that starts with this sentence: Why don't you learn how to talk to a rooster? and ends with this one: She slugged him.

"Why don't you learn how to talk to a rooster?" Sheila's friend Albert asked.
Shelia shrugged.
"What's the point?"
"What's the point? Sheila, the point is so you can figure out what roosters are thinking! Didn't you ever wonder what your rooster thinks about?"
Sheila's rooster, Cluck, never really did anything except go, "Cockadoodledoo!" in the morning.
"Not really," She said. "They don't do much, and it's impossible to talk to one."
"It is not!" Albert protested. "You're just too dumb to figure out how to talk to one!"
She slugged him.

You are a farmer who wants personalized license plates. You aren't allowed to use more than seven letters and one hyphen or space. Come up with at least three ideas for your plates.

LVTOFRM
FRMRJOE
TRACTOR

Olivia has been criticized by her boyfriend for not expressing her feelings enough. "I never know what you think about anything!" he says. "You never give me any details. You shut me out of your thoughts and your life!"
Olivia decides to teach him a lesson. When he comes to pick her up one night, she shares, completely, every detail and thought in her head from the time the leave the house until they get out of the car and shut the door. What does she say?

"While I was getting out of bed this morning, I wondered, 'What do dogs think about when they see a squirrel? Your watch looks really cheap. Did you get it out of a toy machine? Do you think my hair looks nice? Your car needs a wash. It's really dirty. Boy, Mrs. Henderson needs to lose a little weight. My mother says that I need to take better care of my room if I want my own car. I can't believe your mother let you get a car when your room always looks like a garbage dump! I love your hair today. What did you do to it? I hope the restaurant we're going to isn't like the one we went to last time! I could've sworn the cheese they used was molding!"

Thanks for reading! :D

A Lengthened Version of the Story In My Post Called "Short Story"

I'm going to try to put this story in a magazine. Please give me suggestions and comments. Thanks!

The ghost was eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Well, it was just a jelly sandwich. The ghost, named Casper, had forgotten the peanut butter.
“Oh no!” Casper exclaimed. “I forgot something!”
“What did you forget, honey?” Casper’s mom, Catherine, floated in worriedly. She was in the middle of getting her makeup on. Only her top lip had red lipstick.
Casper frowned.
“I forgot the peanut butter on my sandwich. Do we have any left?”
Catherine shook her head.
“Sorry, sweetie. I used up all the peanut butter on the peanut butter cookies.”
Casper scowled at the cookies on the counter for ruining his sandwich.
Casper sighed as his mother floated back towards her bedroom. What was he going to do? He was very hungry, but all he wanted was a good old PB&J sandwich.
Casper suddenly had an idea. He grabbed one of his mother’s peanut butter cookies and spread the grape jelly on top of it. Then he put the cookie in between two slices of bread. But as soon as Casper tasted it, he spit it out into the sink.
“Bleck!” he sputtered. “Peanut butter cookies and grape jelly do not go well together!” Casper threw out the sandwich.
“What was that?” Catherine called from her bedroom. “Did you call me?”
“No, mom! I’m just trying to make my sandwich without using peanut butter!”
“Good luck with that.”
Casper tried again to make his sandwich.
Casper scooped up a handful of peanuts and dumped them into a bowl. He mashed them with a potato masher.
The peanuts had only mashed half way, but they would not mash any more. Casper put the partially mashed peanuts in between another two slices of bread spread with grape jelly. Casper tried the sandwich, but it just wasn’t the same as all the way mashed peanuts. So he threw out that sandwich, too.
Casper decided to try one last time to make his sandwich without peanut butter.
Casper took out his mother’s favorite kind of butter. Apple butter. He spread the apple butter and the grape jelly on another two slices of bread. He put the apple butter away and tried the sandwich.
“It’s just not the same,” Casper sighed. He threw out his sandwich.
“Casper!” Casper’s mom came floating down the stairs. “We’re going to the Ghostery Store.”
“Ok, mom.”
Casper went outside and got into the car. Not long after that, he and Catherine drove off.
Casper unbuckled his seat belt as Catherine parked the car in the parking lot. They floated inside.
“What’s on the Ghostery list?” Casper asked. He loved to help out with the shopping.
“We need apples, noodles, green beans, potatoes, and celery.”
“We also need peanut butter,” Casper reminded his mom.
“Right. Peanut butter.” She took a pen out of her purse and wrote it down on the list.
“How about I give you half the list and I take the other half. Ok?”
“Ok.”
Catherine tore the list in half and gave one half to Casper.
“I’ll meet you at the self-checkout counter.”
“Ok. Bye!”
So Casper went off to find the potatoes, celery, and peanut butter. The potatoes and celery were easy. There’s only one kind of those. But the peanut butter was harder. Should he go chunky or smooth? Skippy or Jif? Small jar or large jar?
Finally he decided to go with a large jar of smooth Skippy peanut butter. Casper floated off to the self-checkout counter where his mom was waiting.
Catherine took the food, scanned them, paid for them, and took the receipt.
“Let’s go home, now. It’s almost dinner time.”
“Yes! And now I can make my peanut butter and jelly sandwich!” Casper was excited.
Casper and Catherine drove to their house. Casper leaped out of the car and floated inside very fast.
“Uh-oh,” Casper said as he got out the peanut butter and the bread. “I’ve got a problem.”
“What’s the matter?” Catherine asked.
“I used up all the jelly.”

A Short Story

I recently made a short story out of a writing exercise about a ghost. Here it is!

The ghost was eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Well, it was just a jelly sandwich. The ghost, named Casper, had forgotten the peanut butter.

“Oh no!” Casper exclaimed. “I just realized something!”

“What did you just realize, honey?” Casper’s mom floated in worriedly.

“I just realized that I forgot the peanut butter for my sandwich,” Casper explained. “Do we have any peanut butter left?”

“Sorry, Casper. I used up the rest of the peanut butter for the peanut butter cookies.”

Casper sighed as his mother floated back towards her bedroom. What was he going to do? He was very hungry, but all he wanted was a good old PB&J sandwich.

Casper suddenly had an idea. He grabbed one of his mother’s peanut butter cookies and spread the grape jelly on top of it. Then he put the cookie in between two slices of bread. But as soon as Casper tasted it, he spit it out into the sink.

“Blech!” he sputtered. “Peanut butter cookies and grape jelly do not go well together!” Casper threw out the sandwich.

So Casper decided to try a new method of making a PB&J sandwich. He scooped up a handful of peanuts and put them into a bowl and started to mash them with a potato masher thing. Casper couldn’t remember the name of it. The peanuts had only mashed half way, but they would not mash any more. Casper put the partially mashed peanuts in between another two slices of bread spread with grape jelly. Casper tried the sandwich, but it just wasn’t the same as all the way mashed peanuts. So he threw out that sandwich, too.

Casper decided to try one last time to make his sandwich without peanut butter.

Casper took out his mother’s favorite kind of butter. Apple butter. He spread the apple butter and the grape jelly on another two slices of bread. He put the apple butter away and tried the sandwich.

“It’s just not the same,” Casper sighed. He threw out his sandwich.

Just then, his mother came home with a grocery bag.

“Guess what?” She said with a cheerful smile. “I bought some peanut butter for you!”

Casper’s frown slowly turned into a smile as she took out the jar.

“Yay!” He said with glee. “Thank you!” He hugged his mom but then frowned again.

“But, there’s only one problem,” Casper said. “I used up the jelly.”

:)

More Unjournaling

Here is another writing exercise:
What would "Blue" taste like if you could chew it?
Here is my answer:

Blue would taste delicious. It would be as fluffy as cotton candy, but not sticky, and it would taste like a mix of berries, a fruit slushy, and sunshine.

Here's another one:
Write a paragraph about winter by starting every sentence with the letter "W".
Here's my paragraph:

Winter is wonderful! Wonderful is winter! Wait, does that even make sense? Well, I love winter! Winter is a time for sledding, making snowmen, and snowball fights! Whoa, I almost forgot about drinking hot cocoa. Why, I just LOVE hot cocoa! Wheels of cars get stuck in the snow though, and that's not good. Well, I still love winter!
Post a comment on what blue tastes like and/or write the winter exercise if you want.
:)

Unjournaling

I have a book called, "Unjournaling" that I got for Christmas. Basically, it's a book with all these fun exercises that are challenging and make you write creatively. Here's a writing challenge that I'm doing:
What are the best reasons for doing nothing? List them.

Doing nothing makes you think, and thinking is good.
Doing nothing lets you notice interesting details you missed before when you were something.
Doing nothing lets you rest.
Doing nothing sometimes is good. After doing lots of something everyone needs to do nothing once in a while.
Doing nothing helps you realize that doing nothing can really be boring, sometimes, and helps you do something.

Here's another exercise:
Chris walks into the room. By describing only the reactions of others in the room, let us know something about him.

Chris walked into the room. Melanie flinched. Teressa whimpered. Cassie made big, puppy, dog eyes at him. You could almost see the hearts in her eyes. "Oh, brother," Sally mumbled, rolling her eyes.

What do you think Chris is like? Comment your answers please.

Saturday at the Frists

Here is a story I just finished today. Enjoy!

Kate, Margaret, Helen, and Sarah were invited to their teacher’s house, Mrs. Frist’s, for lunch. Kate had dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, a round face, and was very kind. Margaret had black hair, an oval face, bright light blue eyes, and was full of jokes. Helen had light brown hair, a round face, dark blue eyes, and had a very dramatic personality. Sarah had an oval face, blonde hair, bright green eyes, and enjoyed doing girly stuff. When the best friends found the invitations in their mailboxes, they called each other right away.

“Margaret, Helen, Sarah, I just got an invitation from Mrs. Frist!” said Kate.

“Me too!” cried Margaret.

“Really? Me three!” said Helen.

“I suppose you got one too Sarah?”

“How did you know?” said Sarah sarcastically.

Suddenly Helen shrieked.

“What is it?” asked Kate.

“We go on Saturday!” said Helen dramatically.

“Oh brother,” said Sarah. Kate thought she might be rolling her eyes over the phone.

“Well at least it’s just for lunch,” said Kate, “but if she asks us to stay for a little while, we will politely stay for a little bit longer. When we want to go this is what we will say: ‘We really must be going.’ When we leave let’s shake hands. Okay?”

Everyone agreed.

“Good.”

On Saturday, everyone met at Margaret’s house.

“Everyone ready?” asked Helen.

Sarah rolled her eyes. “It’s not like she’s planning to trap us in her cellar with ghosts!”

“You never know!” said Helen.

“I’m just saying!” said Sarah.

“You never know if she has ghosts or if her house is spooky and cold or welcoming and warm or if she has ghosts or pets,” said Helen.

“Didn’t she say she has a two year old daughter?” said Kate.

“Yes she did!” said Margaret.

“Then that means . . .” started Helen.

“She has a husband,” finished Sarah.

“If she has a daughter and husband her house must be welcoming!” said Kate.

“You never know!” said Helen once more with another roll of Sarah’s eyes.

The girls kept on walking until they came to an old-looking house. It had brown pieces of wood that were breaking apart, and the roof was all crooked. It was only 11:30 in the morning but it felt like midnight at the sight of the old house. Helen gave Sarah the “what did I tell you” look and Sarah rolled her eyes again. They went up to the beat-up, crooked porch and Kate rang the old-fashioned doorbell. It rang with a buzz. They politely wiped their feet on the unswept doormat. A handsome looking man came up and answered the door. Kate, Sarah, and Margaret looked carefully at his hands. There was a wedding ring on his left hand. “You must be Kate, Helen, Margaret, and Sarah! Oh, my wife has told me so much about you! Come in! Come in!”

They shook hands and stepped in as he held the door open wider. The house was so much different on the outside than the inside. There was a fireplace with two red, comfy armchairs and just enough space in between for a person to squeeze through. In the space sat a little girl in a purple dress with cookie crumbs stuck to her face. The girl was playing with an old rag doll. On the mantel place there were a few photos and a vase in the middle. To the left there were two picture frames. The first one was a picture of Mrs. Frist and her husband getting married. The next one had a picture of her daughter being born. Then there was a tall, gold vase holding daises, roses, poppies, and sunflowers. Then there was another picture of her daughter’s first steps at 8 months old. The last picture was a family picture at a studio. They walked to the left of the room where there was a brown easy chair and two sofas surrounding a coffee table. To the right of the room there was a couch facing the side of one of the armchairs.

“This is a lovely living room!” said Kate politely.

Mrs. Frist walked into the room. “Why, thank you!”

Mrs. Frist was holding two kittens that looked like newborns. Their eyes were still closed. One of the kittens was all black and the other one was gray with tiny, thin, black stripes.

“What are their names?” asked Sarah.

“The black one is Sweetpea. The other one is Shadow.”

Suddenly another cat walked in. It was the mother. The mother cat was a tabby cat. It rubbed against their teacher’s legs and purred.

“May we pet her?” asked Margaret.

“Of course! Her name is Tiger”

Margaret and Helen knelt down to pet Tiger.

“Would you girls please follow me?” asked Mrs. Frist.

“Why?! Where are you taking us?!” shouted Helen as she stood up very quickly. Tiger hissed at her.

Sarah closed her eyes, put her hand on her face, and shook her head. Kate looked humiliated, and Margaret gasped.

Mrs. Frist was shocked. “I am only taking you to the dining room for our supper!”

Helen blushed furiously, and her ears turned bright pink.

They walked to the dining room after the event was over. Mrs. Frist served tiny tea sandwiches, tea, cookies, and chocolate mousse pudding on a big, shiny, silver platter. Everyone ate quietly until Sarah broke the silence.

“Mrs. Frist? How long have you been married?”

“For fifteen years.”

“Do you ever feel lonely with just you and your daughter when your husband is at work?”

“Sometimes. But, I have Tiger, and now Sweetpea, and Shadow. I also have my daughter Samantha.”

Margaret fidgeted uncomfortably for ten minutes straight.

“Margaret! What ever is the matter with you?” asked Kate whispering to be polite.

“I need to use the bathroom!” she whispered back.

“Excuse me,” said Kate. “Could you please show my friend to the bathroom?”

“Of course! Follow me!”

“Don’t do it Margaret! She’ll take you to the cellar and . . .”

Kate covered her mouth so that she didn’t talk about ghosts again.

When Margaret came back, Kate began to speak. “We really must be going now! Thank you for everything.”

They pet Tiger and shook hands with everyone. Then everybody hugged Samantha.

When they came out Kate said, “Honestly Helen! Why did you scream like that and try to make Margaret believe she was taking her to the cellar!?”

“Because she would! She just heard me, so she didn’t take Margaret there to feed her to real tigers and get spooked out by ghosts!”

“But she does not have a cellar!”

“Huh?”

“I was trying to tell you before but you wouldn’t listen! I was there one time! She invited me to lunch! But you and everyone else were on vacation! She took me for a tour around the house! She only had an attic! And SHE DID NOT HAVE A CELLAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Kate screamed so loud that everyone practically jumped two feet in the air and all the birds flew out of their nests.

They all walked home and everyone, including Helen, knew that Mrs. Frist was just another normal person.

The End

What Possession Would You Choose?

If I could choose only one possession to keep forever I would choose my stuffed, very loved (not very clean), have-had-for-over-5-years cat Menedy. I would choose her because I love her more than any other toy in the whole world! I've slept with her ever since I got her and take her everywhere that is possible. I take her to restaurants, stores (where I like to push her in the carts), in the car, on long road trips, to people's houses, and a LOT more! Here is the story of how I got her. (I can't remember the whole thing. I'll put a BLANK where I can't remember stuff.)

Mommy, Daddy, Maxim, and I were shopping at the mall, when I saw a little section of stuffed animals. Mommy and Daddy were looking at something, and there was this cat that was white, had rounded ears with pink in the middle, black and blue eyes, a pink triangle nose, and a striped blue bow tie. I started to play with her. Mommy told me that we were leaving now. I said something. I think it was this: "Bye, kitty! I'll come and visit you."

Mommy told me that when Vavo was visiting and we were shopping mommy told her the story and Vavo said "Why didn't you get that for her?" And she bought it.

BLANK.

In the car I was thinking about what was soon to be called Menedy when I think she said, "Kate, I've got a surprise for you!"

I turned around in my seat and I saw Menedy. I said, "I'll call her Menedy!" I was so happy and surprised!

BLANK for a couple of years.

I am so glad that I have Menedy. When you post your comments, write what your only possession would be and why.