On Writing, Writing Prompts

Writing Prompt 52

Well, I guess I’ve been posting Wednesday writing prompts for an entire year now. I hope you’ve found some of them helpful. If you’ve written anything based on one of them, I’d love to hear about it!

Here’s your 52nd prompt:

And just like that, they were gone.

I choose “they” since it can indicate a person, multiple people, or a thing/things, but feel free to change the pronoun.

On Writing, Writing Prompts

Writing Prompt 51

I’ve got a series of short prompts for you over the next several weeks, many of which could potentially be first lines. This week’s prompt is:

“I can’t do this anymore.”

On Writing, Writing Prompts

Writing Prompt 50

I sincerely apologize. I forgot to post one of these this past Wednesday, so here is your weekly writing prompt, albeit a bit late. For those who have never heard the expression that kicks this one off, I’ve included a handy reference.


“What in Sam Hill happened here?!”

I spat a mouthful of blood onto the asphalt then looked at the old man out of my one good eye. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

On Writing, Writing Prompts

Writing Prompt 48

Disappearing Ink

Here is this week’s writing prompt, an inter-galactic tale of pen-pilfering, ink-drinking bandits. Thanks to my husband for inspiring this one. I was wondering out loud what had happened to a particular pen that I’d had in the kitchen drawer when he suggested maybe there was some pen-stealing faction out there for whom ink was like the spice in Dune. So there you have it.

They were slick, surreptitious. He’d give them that. Those ink-drinking bandits from the outerlands of Rogon 5 had struck again, and this time, they’d hatched a plot so nefarious that the entire supply of ink in the Glacyon Prime system had literally dried up within nanoseconds. A dehydration device of some sort. That’s how they’d done it. They’d turned all of the liquid ink into dried powder form. He admitted it was brilliant. It was much easier to smuggle and transport containers of powdery ink off-world than volumes of liquid. Who knows? Maybe they wanted it in powder form. They could be inhaling it now, smoking it, rather than guzzling it; perhaps they’d found that ingesting it that way made its mind-altering effects more potent. He was wondering where the trail of disappearing ink would lead him next when an alert came in that ink-carrying vessels known as “pens” had been reported missing in large numbers from a planet in the Sol system known as Earth. He clenched his fist. His instinct told him the pen-pilfering hooligans had to be Rogons. He had to stop them before this planet Earth suffered the same fate as Glacyon Prime.