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
(Team 1)
You are confident. You are poised. I took a deep breath and tried to relax my tight grip on the notebook I carried before reaching out to open the door in front of me.
The room was small but bright with sunlight streaming through the large windows. Five chairs made up a circle in the center of the room. A young woman with long black hair hanging straight down her back sat in a chair, and… was she crying?
She hadn’t seemed to notice me, so I snuck a peek at my phone, to ensure I had gotten the time and location right. After verifying that I was indeed in the right place, I cautiously approached the chairs. Should I say something to her? Oh, this was so awkward! Confidence, remember?
“Hey,” I said gently, catching her attention, “are you alright?”
“I just don’t know what to do.” Her voice was distraught, but as she raised her face to look at me, there were no tears in sight. I sank gently into a chair a few spots away. “It’s a big mess,” she continued. “A colossal mess. You know what I mean?”
“Um…” I wasn’t really sure what she was talking about, but she didn’t seem to expect an answer as she kept talking.
“I mean, if you know something bad is going to happen, do you have to try and stop it?”
“I just got here.” My voice was quiet and uncertain, far from the confident image I had hoped to project today. Once again, she didn’t seem to notice or hear my response as she kept going.
“He seemed so genuine, but now I hardly know what to think of him or what to do with him. What do you do with someone who is so determined to be bad?”
“Another one, Reina?”
I startled at the amused voice and looked up to see a woman with a blonde ponytail approaching the circle of chairs.
She gave me a little wave. “Don’t mind her.” She nodded her head toward Reina. “She’s a pantser, and her characters tend to get away from her. She has a bit of thing for bad boys but is somehow always surprised and devastated when they turn out to be, well, bad.”
I nodded in response, still not entirely sure what was happening. I was really beginning to doubt I was in the right place. Perhaps I got the room number wrong?
The blonde smiled brightly as she sat in the chair between Reina and me. “I’m Petra.”
“Petra,” I repeated. “That’s a cool name.”
“Do you like it?” Petra beamed. “I’m trying it out this month. It’s short and sweet, but I think it packs a bit of a punch, and, most importantly,” she paused for effect, “it’s easy to pronounce.”
I had no idea how to respond to that but finally settled on, “It’s not your real name?”
“Oh, goodness no. I left my real name behind as soon as I took up writing. I’ve been trying to find the perfect pen name for a while now. I’m really thinking Petra might be the one.” She sighed in contentment. “Petra Wright. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t know, I still think you should go with Petra Fye,” a man’s voice joined in. The newcomer smirked at Petra’s glare and sat down on the other side of me, holding out his hand. “I’m Ryder.”
I shook his hand and opened my mouth to introduce myself when Petra scoffed.
“Ryder Die. Ridiculous.”
The man’s smirk grew as he shrugged, unfazed. “What can I say? Writing is my life.”
“Oh, good. We are all here.” An older woman bustled in and completed the small circle. She wore her hair up in a bun, and her glasses were perched on the edge of her nose. She looked like a quintessential librarian. “Let’s get started, shall we? Ryder, why don’t you go first today?”
“Alright.” Ryder sat up in his chair with a serious expression. “Hi, everyone. I’m Ryder, and I am six months sober.”
My eyes widened as I thought once more that I most definitely was not in the right place. Then Petra snorted a laugh beside me. I looked at the other two members of our group and saw Madam Librarian smooth out her irritated expression while Reina remained silently lost in her own thoughts.
Madam Librarian’s voice was calm as she spoke. “Now, Ryder. While I am happy to hear of your sobriety, you know that is not why we are here. If you are not ready to share, perhaps we will start with someone else.” I tried not to shift uncomfortably as she directed her owlish gaze to me. “How about you, dear?”
“Um…” Great start, I mentally kicked myself. “I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to say.”
“Just introduce yourself and tell us what you are working on.”
“Okay.” I took a deep breath. Confidence. “My name is Annie. I brought some samples of my work.” I lifted the notebook off my lap and opened it to read.
“Oh, no dear,” Madam Librarian interrupted, “I think you misunderstood. I didn’t mean what you are writing; I meant what you are working on.”
“Oh.” I was so confused. “But isn’t this a writer’s support group?”
“Of course! Anxious Writers Anonymous is a fellowship of writers who come together to solve their anxiety problems. A.W.A.’s primary purpose is to help writers achieve emotional stability.”
I blinked. Did she just call us all unstable? I looked around the group: at Reina who was still feverishly worrying over her bad boy character, at Petra who struggled to find herself in a name, and at Ryder whose life was wholly absorbed by writing. Perhaps we were all a little unstable in our own ways. Maybe I was in the right place after all.
“Okay.” I took another deep breath. “Well, in that case, I am working on confidence…”
I love all the little twists, Emma! This had me snickering the whole time!
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.