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
Of Tomatoes and Princesses
by Philothea Hope (Team A, Herbert the Frog)
…
When the barest peek of dawn begins to rise over the horizon, the birds begin their morning song, the dew sparkles dimly in the greening meadows, and the whole of human drowsiness has not yet shaken itself into the bustle of work and the sounds of living, one can be certain that it is far too early in the morning for a discussion on the philosophy of moral responsibility.
“If you know something bad is going to happen, do you have to try and stop it?”
“I just got here,” Gabriel said dryly, pulling an apron down from the hook by the tavern door and raising an eyebrow at his bleary-eyed coworker sprawled dramatically over the bar.
“Long night, eh Henry?”
“The longest ever.” Henry rolled over and propped his elbows on the bar counter, plopping his head into his hands.
“Did you know,” he said, “that a man can fit five full-grown tomatoes in his mouth before he realizes he’s done something stupid?”
“I think the amount of tomatoes would depend on the man.”
“No, no,” Henry tsked and wagged a finger at Gabriel, “I saw three different men try it. If a man is going to try to fit as many full-grown tomatoes in his mouth as possible in the first place, it will be five and exactly five when he realizes he can’t swallow and can barely breathe.” Gabriel’s eyebrow shot back up.
“Three? You watched three men do that and bothered to count the tomatoes? Is that what you meant by trying to stop something bad from happening?”
Henry sighed and let his elbows drop and his face fall down into his outstretched arms.
“No,” he whined in a muffled voice.
“Speak up then, man,” Gabriel said, throwing a rag over his shoulder and getting to work clearing off the tables in the empty tavern. He grimaced a little at the sheer amount of slop the late night revelers had left behind.
“You couldn’t have cleaned up a little?” he asked Henry, who was busy making the kinds of noises that he imagined sounded like his soul leaving his body.
“Nope,” Henry said, turning his head to be heard, “couldn’t. The last one left just before you came in; didn’t have a chance to clean.”
Gabriel wrinkled his nose as he mopped up a suspiciously colored spill. Henry went back to making pathetic noises.
Rolling his eyes, Gabriel threw his rag at him.
“Well? Out with it already, Henry. What happened?”
“Gabriel,” Henry said, suddenly throwing himself into an upright position, “three men—completely unrelated to the tomato eaters, mind you—were in the bar last night and they were jawing on and on about how they plan to take the Princess Elina and wring her neck or maybe cut her head off, and now that I’ve accidentally overheard an assassin’s plot against our Princess, I’m not sure what to do because we’re miles away from the Royal Capital, I haven’t the foggiest idea what goes on there, and I haven’t even got a horse.”
Gabriel’s heart-rate spiked, and he inhaled sharply.
“That’s a tough one, Henry,” he said slowly. Henry scrunched his face in a look of displeasure.
“Oh,” he added, “and my shoes have holes in them. So walking is equally out of the question. Let alone the time it would take me to warn anyone.”
“Did you recognize the men?” Gabriel asked.
“That’s just it,” said Henry, “one of them was Rye, the farmer from just out of town. I don’t know the other two, but Rye? Well, you know Rye.”
“Not exactly the murdering type,” Gabriel said, shaking his head. Rye was an older farmer, and the kind of man who’d sing lullabies to baby birds and turn aside to let a nursing cow have some privacy. He seemed much more likely to be armed with a smile and a pint of beer than to be plotting the death of the Kingdom’s beloved Princess.
“So?” Henry asked, his tone finally serious, “What do I do, Gabriel?”
Gabriel crossed his arms and closed his eyes, thinking seriously. What, after all, could they do? Henry was certainly right—they neither of them had a way to warn anyone. But was it enough to shrug their shoulders and hope the Princess’ guards were good enough to foil an unexpected attempt on her life?
“Don’t think too hard, Gabe. You’ll get wrinkles,” Henry said wryly, back to his usual self.
“Do we have lodgers right now?”
“None.”
“Close up shop then. There’s only one thing to do, Henry,” Gabriel said firmly. “We’ve got to find Farmer Rye and see if we can stop them before they get out of town.”
Henry sighed, but followed Gabriel to the door.
Gabriel threw the tavern door open; the decision now made, he wanted to be done with it as quickly as possible. The sun was fully risen now, the birdsong clear and bright, and the bustle of the day was truly beginning—the town was coming to life again.
Gabriel stopped short and Henry ran right into him.
“Hey!—” Henry started as he peered around Gabriel’s shoulder, but cut off when he saw what had stopped the man.
Farmer Rye waved as he passed by.
“It’s chicken dinner tonight, boys!” he said cheerfully, pulling along a thin cord looped around a hen behind him. “C’mon, Princess, the time is come for you, I’m afraid.”
Henry waved back and grinned.
“Ah,” he said. Gabriel didn’t turn around.
“Henry,” he said calmly, “did they actually say Princess Elina, by name I mean?”
Henry laughed sheepishly.
“Well, now, come to think of it,” he tittered, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Henry,” Gabriel said, and Henry’s laugh turned nervous.
“Yes, Gabe, old, dear friend of mine?”
Gabriel turned around so quickly Henry couldn’t escape as he caught him by the front of his shirt and loomed over him menacingly.
“Let’s go find out how many full-grown tomatoes fit inside your mouth.”
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.