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
What Do They See in Him?
(By Rose Q. Addams, Team A)
“Not only does he have to be the hero, but he has to go out of his way to make life difficult for the rest of us.” Prince Eric sneered, glaring down at his mug of ale. “It’s not right. He’s not even noble.”
Prince Philip shrugged, taking a deep draft from his own mug. “If there’s another hero wandering around, I don’t see it as an issue. Not everyone starts out noble, but the way he’s going…”
“You’re already married,” Eric growled. “Of course you don’t mind. Any swooning you get, you’re supposed to ignore, anyway.”
“And you’re engaged,” Philip’s brother, Idvard, remarked, eyes twinkling. “So I don’t think you ought to be worried about ladies’ attentions.”
“I don’t want any other woman than my Snow— it’s not the point.” Eric sulked, nursing his mug. “My point is, we’re losing ground in the public eye (and yes, even losing our appeal with the ladies)… to a widow’s son. He’s not even a proper third son!”
“Ah, yes. Luckiest of all. Fat lot of good that would do.” Oswin, yet another royal-in-disguise at the table, snorted. “I don’t like it any more than you, Eric, but sulking isn’t going to fix it. Just move on with your life. Continue doing what you do best: leading. Eventually, his stunts will turn on him and he’ll have a long fall back to wherever he came from.”
“If he was a lucky third son, at least there’d be some reason behind it all,” Eric said, though his protests were weaker, now, and he took a deeper draft thoughtfully. “I just can’t understand the appeal…”
“Mind if I join you gentleman?” A youth quirked a grin as he slowed near their table, but the frosty demeanor of its inhabitants made the smile slip from his face and he hurried away, casting a nervous glance back their direction.
“It’s just foolishness,” Eric said at last, sounding more weary than irritated. “Why can’t they see that we try as hard as we can? That we do our best?”
“They can’t see it from our perspective,” Idvard said. “They’re just ordinary people, after all. But he— he’s an everyman’s hero. I don’t really mind him, myself, honestly. Keeps things interesting. It’s one thing to admire a distant hero, and quite another to realize that heroes can just… appear. Rise up and fight monsters themselves, defend from those pesky raiders and bandits without having to wait for a militia…”
“Get over yourself,” Philp chuckled. “That’s your poetic nature talking.”
“Poetic or no, it’s true,” Idvard said stubbornly. “I think he’d be a valuable ally to us royals. An ambassador, of sorts, to the common man. If I were to meet him, I’d tell him so.”
Eric opened his mouth to retort, but before he could speak, the tavern door burst open and in marched a dozen half-giants, broad-shouldered and wearing obscene mixes of armor, leather, and furs.
“Give us your goods, and no one gets hurt,” the largest one boomed. “Just play nice, and hand yer things over to the gentleman nearest you, eh?”
The tavern’s occupants fell silent, then shakily began to strip off their goods and pass them to the nearest barbarian. Eric scowled, but slipped off his ring and passed it. Oswin handed over his mother’s silver cross without protest, though he hesitated a fraction of a second before dropping it into the giant’s hand.
Idvard’s hand slowly went to his knife, but his brother shot him a warning look and imperceptibly shook his head. Philip then looked up at the giant, and put his own, decorative, dagger into the canvas sack the man-mountain put forth. As everyone about them murmured and scrounged, fearfully looking up at their captives, the youth from before stood abruptly.
“What if I were to challenge you?” he said, addressing the giant leader.
“And who is this whelp, to speak to me in such a foolish way? You have a death wish?” The giant’s face wrinkled in a scornful smile. “I could—”
“I’m Jack,” the youth said simply, and everyone halted. “Yes, that Jack. Jack they call the Giant-Killer. Jack they call Hero.”
Eric’s face went red, and Idvard’s brows rose.
The giant, for his part, looked somewhere between rage and calculating, as if he were trying to decide whether to engage with Jack-the-Hero or to flee now. “What sort of challenge?” he said, fingers flexing near the handle of the club that hung at his side.
“A riddle. If you do not answer correctly, you will leave these people their goods. If you answer correctly… you can crush my head and have that as token among your brethren.”
The giant looked almost giddy. “So even if I were to possibly lose… I would leave unscathed?”
“Aye.” The lad stood bold, without trembling, and Eric almost felt it, for a second. The awe and pride that the people must feel, seeing him stand up and fight. Then, his anger kicked in again, full-force, as Jack continued to speak, almost carelessly. “But we should do this outside. Keep the ladies in the room from seeing the mess, if you don’t mind.”
Grinning, the giant captain gestured for his troops to follow him outside, and Jack followed on their heels. Folk whispered in awe and pleasure as he walked by their tables, and as he passed theirs, Eric rose to his feet and blocked his path.
“If you know something bad is going to happen, do you have to try and stop it?” He said through grit teeth.
“I just got here,” the youth said, looking up at him unafraid. “I didn’t know what was coming. But I’m not going to run away from it, now I’m here. People need me.”
And with that, he stepped neatly around Eric and strode to the door.
“Need a hand?” Idvard called out, rising to his feet.
Jack looked back over his shoulder, and gave an easy smile. “Only if you really want to come.”
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.