My dad used to tell us lots of stories. He was really good at it. I remember one birthday where we all went for a walk outside in the dark with my dad (I think it was maybe my 10th B-day or so). While we walked he told us a story, and then he finished the story around a camp fire he build. How cool is that? Now that I'm older I realize that some stories were based on classic literature and poetry. That makes it even cooler to me. But the coolest thing is that my dad could make up stories. I've tried a few times, but really, I think I suck. Some of it may be a mental block. I'm afraid and unsure to explore and just let me creativity flow at the risk of looking stupid. Not a good reason, and something I'd like to change. I want to be able to make up funny or adventurous stories for my kids. Could you imagine how much that would change long road trips? Bed time? Birthdays? Anything? Seriously...I wish.
So, here's is an experiment. You may now join me in a post. I'll start a story with a few sentences. Then whoever reads this first, posts a comment with the continuation of the story. The next reader has to add on to the most recent comment and so forth. I'll eventually try and piece it all together and put it in one post. Let's see what we can come up with. If it's any good you can all copy the story and tell it to your kids. :) If nothing else, it may be a good exercise to get our creative juices flowing.
And since my dad would base some of his stories on poetry, I will, too. On my own for that matter. :) Here is the poem, and then you can read my beginning of the story:
Sleepless in Provo
the clock kept slowly ticking
as Fran typed away.
the keyboard keys were clicking
in a night dark, quiet and fey.
and fran, ghostly and ghastly
sat on a wooden chair
slowly trying to think fastly
in the cold midnight air.
but thinking became like dreaming
and every word she wrote and read
seemed like stars remotely gleaming,
so Fran went back to bed.
A Story
It was a cold, but snowless Novemeber night, when Chanty snuck down to the kitchen in the middle of the night to get another one of her favorite cookies. As she walked down the stairs, she could hear the ticking of the many grandfather clocks in the house. While the sounds of the clocks bothered her during the day, she felt that they turned the house into a magical place at night. And Chanty loved magic. Of course, she already was old enough to know that magical creatures didn't really exist, and that Santa wasn't real either. But that didn't change the fact that at times she still liked to dream and imagine that there was a magical world out there. Or better yet, not out there, but here in her own home. If only for one night, she could dance with fairies, or ride on a unicorn, or swim with some mermaids. Chanty sat down on a chair, munching her cookie and started dreaming of all the wonderful adventures that she could have with magical creatures.
Friday, November 13, 2009
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11 comments:
(From Henry: cool idea Franny!)
When suddenly, the boom of the grandfather clock shook her from her reverie. Each strike of the clock seemed ever nearer and deafening. Her excitement for magical things faded with every boom and uneasiness filled it's void. The kitchen lights flickered and on the eleventh stroke of the clock, they went out. The house fell silent as the last echoing of the clock died away. Chanty wished that clock had awakened her parents and was thinking of dashing to her room to hide under her covers but felt glued to the spot. Suddenly, a pinprick of a light shone in the pitch black seemingly coming from under the potted plant by the door. She couldn't help but look and was entranced as it began to grow. It grew until it was the size of a basketball then changed to a brilliant blue and the shadow of something small seemed to slowly form. Chanty wanted to call for her parents but felt like her voice was buried deep inside her. She fought disparately to speak, trying to pull something out, anything! Before she could speak the creature in the light spoke.
"Why do you look surprised?" the creature asked. "You have always known we exist." Chanty didn't know what to think. The small, almost, but not quite, human-like figure looked vaguely familiar, it was true. But, where did she recognize it from? And where were the rest of the "we"?
Ack! I want to play, but I'm horrible at stuff like this!
So am I Julie! Just try. It's just about trying. You can do it anonymous, if you'd like. Maybe I'll do that. Then I am not as worried about sounding stupid.
It is insanely hard to continue stories begun by other people. But it's a cool idea, maybe you should turn this into a book on blurb.com!
I can't continue any story. Not even the ones I started. I'll try and add more later on though. I just want to try and be more creative. Sometimes I felt it helped if I just had to be creative for a few sentences,and other peoples input would get my juices flowing again.
Fran
You all just ruined my train of thought after reading such a great beginning. Now, no more comments unless they keep the story going...
... the light dimmed and a 2 foot high human-like creature, with a pointy red hat and rosy, pink cheeks skin became clear. "I am Nilly, the gnome," said the creature in a squeaky voice. "We've been watching you and have deemed you worthy to enter our world. But, you must come willingly and you can't tell anyone else about it."
Chanty was excited but nervous. Did she want to go with this strange creature who always looked cheerful? Her mother always warned that someone whose smiling for no reason is either crazy or up to something. And, not tell anyone? In school she was always taught about "stranger danger". And what would really happen if she told her brother?
"You can't do that", the voice said.
Had he read her thoughts? Now Chanty was even more nervous than ever, but still a bit excited. "You can read my mind?" she thought.
"No, you just think loudly," said the gnome.
"Stop it. I don't like you in my mind!" she cried.
"Then stop thinking so awfully, loud", squeaked the gnome. "I have a tough time not listening to you think it is so boisterously loud."
"I could teach you to control it." He added with a cheery wink.
"No, thanks. I'm not supposed talk with strangers. Sorry", Chanty replied. "I need to go back to bed".
And with that the gnome disappeared and Chanty went back to bed.
The end.
hey, I was going to add stuff. I'm still thinking...
Controlling her loud thinking? Chanty was definitely intrigued now, and so, she shoved in the last few bites of her cookie and told little Nilly that she was ready to come with him and learn whatever tricks he had to show her.
"Ok," Nilly said. "We just have to wait a second for my brothers Milly and Vanilly to stop by. If you want to travel with us to Gnomonia, you have to stand in a Gnome cirlce in the shadow of this grandfather clock".
As Nilly was telling Chanty this, two other knobbly, but human looking creatures hopped out of the clock. One was wearing a bright red cape, the other one had black dreads down to his knees. Chanty thought they were the weirdest little gnomes she'd ever seen, and yet, something about them was strangely familiar. She just couldn't put her finger on it.
"Well Chanty. Are you ready to come to Gnomonia with us?", Vanilly asked.
"Yes, I'm ready."
"Ok, stand in the middle of our little circle then, close your eyes, count along with ticking of the clock and think of your favorite melody", Milly said.
"Wow, do I really need to do all that to go with you guys?" Chanty asked.
"No, you don't, but we don't want to hear your loud thoughts, so this should help with distracting you, " Nilly answered. The gnomes laughed, thinking they were pretty funny. And now Chanty wanted once more to tell her brother where she was going. Well, there was no time now, she decided. She started counting backwards, and focusing on her favorite melody and suddenly everything around her seemed to get hazy. In surprise, she dropped her last morsel of her cookie, and then there was a bright splash.
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