Welcome to the first week of the Spring Writing Challenge!
We’re so excited to get started on these stories. It’s time to roll up your sleeves, set your fingers on your keyboard, and get writing. Will your story contain aliens? A prince in disguise? Maybe even a sweet summer romance? Whatever happens, we can’t wait to see what you come up with!
So, without further ado, here’s your very first prompt!
Week One Prompt – The Dialogue Prompt
“If you know something bad is going to happen, do you have to try and stop it?”
“I just got here.”
Wait…what’s a dialogue prompt?
A dialogue prompt is a conversation between two characters. It doesn’t matter who says it, or if it takes place in the beginning, middle, or end of your story. However, one character must say the first sentence, and the second character must respond with the second sentence.
Before you start writing, there are some important rules to follow.
Writing Rules
1. Please keep the content of the stories you post to a PG rating. Please avoid real curse words. Violence/fighting should be limited and purposeful. Please do not include any spice. Moderators may remove stories and comments for any reason at any time. Moderators may remove any member from the challenge at any time.
2. Your story must be 1,000 words or less, and must contain the prompt to be counted for the challenge. You’re not required to post it in order to “win” the challenge, but if you want it to count for your team, your story must be posted by Sunday at 11:59 PM ET, and you must include your team name.
It’s time to post your story as a comment down below! We can’t wait to see all the fun directions you guys take this dialogue prompt. If you have any questions, feel free to email us at info@writers.company!
Happy Writing!
Ava,
Your story was very well written! I enjoyed reading it! 👏
Melissa
Ooh, what a fun story, girl! Fantastic job!
Wow, this is beautifully written!
I love your writing style!
Wow, I’m very impressed. The worldbuilding here feels grounded and real, the characters fleshed out, and the prompt just flows so smoothly with the rest of the narrative. Great story here!
I hope this part of something larger. I was totally sucked in.
Thanks for sharing your work. 🙂 Enjoyable read.
great opening line!
Beautiful story! Great job!
Absolutely loved it
i NEED the rest of this asap! i would love this as a book series. its excellent! The world-building is so good. you did a great job. i especially love how the characters are already full of the knowledge of the world and there is no need for any one character to outright explain things. again, have i expressed how i literally want this in my life so much!
Great details! I was brought right into the world you built!
Such a fun story! Loved the comical banter between characters
“My lady, is there anything we could do for you?”
The sweet-toothed princess of the Alpenmich family let out a groan and waved her languid hands to her ladies-in-waiting. First, they tried to dress her in her favorite jewels and clothing. Second, they showcased all the princess’s favorite activities, from reading cookbooks to perfume-crafting. Third, they recited jokes from the latest fascinations from town. Finally, they paraded a mixture of sweet and savory treats, Their attempts to cheer the princess all fell short.
“Any other ideas?” The head lady-in-waiting drew circles on both her temples. Margareta, a lady-in-waiting, pouted, and Swanhilde, the other lady-in-waiting recently included in the line of attendants, stood in silence. Emeline, the head maid assigned to the princess, interrupted the overgrown silence by whispering with a saccharine tone. “I’ve ‘er Royal Highness’s meal.”
“Emeline,” the head lady-in-waiting sang her name in an almost reverent tone as she reached for Emeline’s reddened hands. Emeline gave a hearty laugh in response, adding a rosy tint to her already livened cheeks.
“I’m afraid our lady will not be eating that. Or anything at all,” Margareta looked longingly over the steaming plated entrée. “Why ‘ver not, milady?”
“We’re trying to figure that out.” Margareta glanced over at Swanhilde who was now leaning at the doorpost with arms crossed. The head lady-in-waiting stepped in between the ladies and then shifted her stance to direct the conversation to the head maid. “You have known the princess longest, Miss Emeline. Surely you must know…”
Emeline scratched her forehead laced with some of her unruly blonde curls. “I’m at a loss too, Lady Schuelte, I’m afraid.” The head lady-in-waiting slouched her shoulders slightly. “Although…” Emeline recalled, “‘Er grace does have a fav’rit pastry she used to gobb’ up.”
This led them to concoct another strategy: serve the princess’s favorite dessert, the schotrobeutel — a bright, tart fruit infused with light cream added into an airy puff pastry, finished with a glaze of cocoa syrup. Lady Schuelte finally remembered the princess would stuff herself with these pastries, especially chilled by a Schlau Koch.
“I’m afraid there’s one teeny probl’m, ma’am,” Emeline held up her gaze. “The Schlau Koch respons’ble is out on a spree.”
The head kitchen staff were no ordinary cooks. They also possessed rare magical abilities designated by the Institute of Consumer Affairs. Schlau Koch only receive such a title once they have gained renown for their specialized skills. The Schlau Koch “chilling” dairy products for the royal family was Yvo Siegert, a young artisan recently onboarding the Royal Kitchen. The only catch is that even artisans can be called for duty on the battlefield given their specialties.
“Where would a new Schlau Koch be, if not here in the palace?!” Margareta hoisted her hands in the air, hoping help would draw near. Emeline shook, startled by her fellow attendant’s abrupt outroar. Lady Schuelte crossed her arms and tapped her foot, letting the echoes of heeled shoes reverberate down the emptied halls. “If only there was another Schlau Koch who specialized in ice magic.”
“I don’t think that would work.” The three attendants turned their heads toward Swanhilde, who they almost forgot was even there.
“And why is that, Swanhilde?” Margareta rolled her eyes and anchored her hands to her waist.
The silence grew between the ladies, so Lady Schuelte interjected, “We ought to keep discretion as ladies-in-waiting.” Emeline nodded and used her hand to cover her seemingly non-discretionary mouth and mumbled, “I did hear…” she cleared her throat, muffling her words, “Sir Yvo…has made…um… quite an impression… on… ‘er grace.”
“Alright. I give up,” Lady Schuelte snapped back to her usual polite frame and elegantly gripped the handle to the princess’s bedroom door, “We shall speak with the princess directly.”
“Our lady,” Lady Schuelte plunged into a deep curtsy as the other ladies and Emeline followed along. Princess Adelaide was now laying on her soft layered bed while staring blankly at the canopy. “We want to know how to lift your spirits,” Margareta bravely followed. “We cannot help you if you do not tell us,” Swanhilde’s sweet-flowing voice made the princess close her eyes.
“I just want to have a schotrobeutel…”
Emeline moved her eyes toward Lady Schuelte and held out a breath.
“… by the new Schlau Koch, Yvo.”
The princess didn’t hesitate to utter the artisan’s name. “I know…” Princess Adelaide rolled over to her stomach and now faced her attendants. “I know he volunteered to be stationed at the border with the peace envoys.”
Margareta softened her gaze while Swanhilde lowered hers. Lady Schuelte trudged carefully toward their dispirited princess, “My Lady, you do know, we have the technology that can aid your curiosity.”
The ladies then called for the Communication Aides from the Technological and Informational Advances. The spectacled aide didn’t ask many questions and began flipping through a gigantic book. He traced the numbers with his fingers, lifted a clay tablet, and drew with his glowing pen. In half an hour, the princess and her attendants were able to witness the clay tablet turn into an almost crystal-like surface that reflected Sir Yvo’s likeness on the other end. “Your Royal Highness, for what do I owe the honor of this call?” Hearing his soft and mellow voice, Princess Adelaide let out a sigh, “If you know something bad is going to happen, do you have to try and stop it?”
“I just got here.”
With a crease between her eyebrows and lips tightened shut, the princess began to sulk in protest. Lady Schuelte held back a giggle through her teeth, “Sir Yvo, Her Royal Highness is just concerned for your welfare. I believe it will do her good if you would delay no further…”
Margareta swooped in, “…and make Her Royal Highness her schotrobeutel before something bad actually does happen!”
Swanhilde beamed, “We might need a peace envoy here soon.” Emeline’s roaring laugh echoed in the room and Princess Adelaide finally broke out into her signature sweet smile.
Team A: Herbert
Thanks for sharing your work. I know that can sometimes be the hardest part about writing! I liked the overall concept. If you are looking for feedback (I am always looking for feedback), I felt like the stakes were not clear here, but that could just mean I am not the target audience. 🙂
Thank you so much for your kind take and feedback on my story! 🙂 It’s been a while since I wrote any short stories so I need to brush up on the techniques and raising stakes/making clear goals, but also as you’ve mentioned, my audience may have been targeting those who like character-driven or dialogue-heavy stories (or in my case, a vignette). I’ve been reading lots of books that are not plot-heavy or high-conflict so maybe that’s why it shows in my current writing. I love how your short story had a good balance of dialogue and a clear focus or stakes! I hope I can one day write worlds and tell stories the way you did.
To Change the World, by Ava Murbarger
P.S.- sorry I missed the meeting, we were out of town. I hope to be at the next one!!
The sky was bleeding again.
Rust-colored clouds hung over the City like bruises, pulsing faintly. Rael kept her eyes fixed on them, one hand on the rail of the Watchers’ Tower. Her gloves were too thin. The steel was cold enough to bite.
Behind her, a door creaked open.
“You’re late,” she said without turning.
Boots scraped against the stone. A new recruit, probably. They sent one every week now. Fresh eyes, fresh loyalty.
“I got lost,” the boy said. He sounded too young to carry the badge. Too soft to hold a blade. “Sorry.”
She turned and looked at him.
Dust-colored coat, too long in the sleeves. Wide eyes. Not from the City, then. One of the Outer Rings. Maybe even farther. She sighed.
“If you know something bad is going to happen,” she said, “do you have to try and stop it?”
The boy blinked. “I just got here.”
“Well, obviously.” She crossed her arms.
He shifted nervously on his feet.
Rael turned back to the cityscape. “The answer is yes, by the way. At least, if you’re cursed with a conscience.”
He joined her at the rail. Together they watched the distant flicker of drones weaving patterns in the smog. A red warning rune glowed briefly on the horizon, then faded. Rael knew what it meant. The Reclamation Agents were moving again. Soon, another neighborhood would vanish.
“Why do you do this?” the boy asked.
She laughed without humor. “Because no one else will. Because the High Council stopped caring two winters ago. Because someone has to.”
A long pause. Then, “Is it true the Watchers can see the future?”
“We read the signs,” she said. “Patterns in weather. Seismic anomalies. Political shifts. The Council says it’s superstition.” She paused. “But when the streets burn exactly seven hours after the rats vanish, over and over again, you stop calling it chance.”
He was silent. Good. Maybe he was listening.
“You said you got lost. But you still came up here. Why?”
“I heard the bells.” He hesitated. “They said you can’t hear them unless you’re meant to.”
Rael glanced at him. The brass bell on the tower hadn’t rung in years. She narrowed her eyes.
“Name?”
“Wren.”
“That’s not your real name.”
“It is now.”
She smirked. “Fine, Wren. Welcome to Watcher’s Hill. Welcome to the losing side.”
Another alarm rune lit the smog. Closer this time.
Rael pulled her scope from her belt and scanned the eastern edge of the city. “Sector Four. They’re burning the food lines again.”
“That’s the second time this week,” Wren said quietly.
She lowered the scope. “Third.”
He didn’t speak for a long time. Then he said, “My sister was there.”
Rael’s fingers tightened around the rail. She didn’t ask if the girl had survived. That wasn’t the kind of world they lived in anymore.
Instead, she reached into her coat and handed Wren a folded map, inked with lines and red X’s.
“There’s a storm tunnel under the old trainyard,” she said. “It’s not on any schematics, and it’ll get you to Sector Four faster than any street. But it’s dark. And crawling.”
Wren took the map with trembling fingers. “Why are you helping me?”
Rael looked at him, really looked. The wide eyes weren’t wide with fear, not completely. It was fire. Just hidden under the ash.
“Because sometimes the only thing worse than seeing the future,” she said softly, “is doing nothing to change it.”
Wren nodded. His jaw set. “Then I’ll go.”
Rael watched as he turned, vanishing back into the tower’s dark. When the door slammed shut behind him, the bell gave a soft chime. Just once.
And far below, the wind began to shift.