By Steven Gillman
Hopefully, when you want short story ideas, you don't sit there waiting for inspiration. It's better to write anything, and do it right now. English writer Graham Green attributes much of his success to a simple habit: He forced himself to write at least 500 words daily, whether he felt like it or not. Perhaps creative inspiration can strike at any time, but it strikes more often when there is work instead of waiting.
What do you write though? Here are a couple new ideas for generating new short story ideas.
Explain This
I once created a car travel game called "Explain This." Someone suggests an unusual scenario in a sentence or two, and then each player explains it in a plausible way. It's an entertaining way to pass the miles, but also a great way to come up with short story ideas.
Just start with an odd scene, anything that pops into your head. You might start, for example, with "Todd handed out the dollar bills to the people as they walked by, trying to distribute as many as he could quickly, before the police could stop him." Now explain that. Our minds insist on explaining things, so you'll find an explanation if you try. If it's interesting enough, you have your next short story.
As I look at the scene in my mind, I imagine the dollar bills are signed or otherwise identifiable, and they can be traded at a big seminar for a gift worth even more. A person could spend it and get a soda - or get something truly valuable for it. Maybe this will go in the marketing ideas file instead of the short story ideas file.
Maybe Todd is handing out the last of his money as per the instructions of his spiritual leader. Could it be a "get rich quick" cult that requires all members to start from zero? A religious movement based on getting rich? Someone could make it into a plausible story.
Short Story Ideas From Combining Stories
Here's a fun technique that is hopefully useful, but is at least worth a few laughs. Just combine old stories into new ones. The less similar the stories you start with, the better. The story of Adam and Eve combined with "I Robot," for example, could lead to an interesting new story. Maybe a pair of robots start a new world. "Original sin" might be the arising of their own consciousness, or their rejection of man as their master.
Hmm... "The Miracle Worker" and "Gorillas In The Mist?" Struggles of an ape that learns at last to speak and be independent? "Star Wars" and "Cool Hand Luke?" The story of a man who livens up the deathly atmosphere of a penal colony in space? "Frankenstein" and "Gone With The Wind?" The possibilities are endless. Start cranking out those new short story ideas.
Steve Gillman has been exploring new ideas for decades. Visit his site for invention ideas, business ideas, story ideas, political and economic theories, deep thoughts, and more. Get a free gift too: New Ideas (http://www.999ideas.com)
Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/?expert=Steven_Gillman
Monday, February 26, 2007
How to Satisfy an Editor
By Eric Hartwell
There are many ways in which you can satisfy any editor that is looking to accept or reject your articles. Contrary to popular belief, editors are not there to make author's lives a misery, but to ensure that only the best article submissions are accepted.
You can make their lives a lot easier and be more successful by following a few simple tips:
Read the submission rules first
This is very important. Any rules laid down are put there for a reason - not just to make your life awkward. Do not try to get around the rules. You may get by once or twice but then you will get found out
Ensure that you write appropriate articles
Make sure your articles are relevant to the people that you are submitting them to and ensure they do not contain offensive or abusive language or anything else that might offend others
Be clear and concise
Editors need to know what you are writing about so you need to get to the point sooner rather than later and then state your case without excessive verbiage
Watch your grammar
Take care over your grammar and spelling - it is easy to do these days with modern software. If you do not have that capacity then ask a friend or relative to check your work for you
Listen to feedback
If your submissions are rejected then there is a reason. Listen to what editors are saying about your articles - make adjustments if you can and you may be able to resubmit
Don't fight with editors - they are your friends.
Visit us or share your opinions at the worlds best homepage or free content resource. Do you want to quit smoking? Visit Smokefree England for further information.
Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/?expert=Eric_Hartwell
There are many ways in which you can satisfy any editor that is looking to accept or reject your articles. Contrary to popular belief, editors are not there to make author's lives a misery, but to ensure that only the best article submissions are accepted.
You can make their lives a lot easier and be more successful by following a few simple tips:
Read the submission rules first
This is very important. Any rules laid down are put there for a reason - not just to make your life awkward. Do not try to get around the rules. You may get by once or twice but then you will get found out
Ensure that you write appropriate articles
Make sure your articles are relevant to the people that you are submitting them to and ensure they do not contain offensive or abusive language or anything else that might offend others
Be clear and concise
Editors need to know what you are writing about so you need to get to the point sooner rather than later and then state your case without excessive verbiage
Watch your grammar
Take care over your grammar and spelling - it is easy to do these days with modern software. If you do not have that capacity then ask a friend or relative to check your work for you
Listen to feedback
If your submissions are rejected then there is a reason. Listen to what editors are saying about your articles - make adjustments if you can and you may be able to resubmit
Don't fight with editors - they are your friends.
Visit us or share your opinions at the worlds best homepage or free content resource. Do you want to quit smoking? Visit Smokefree England for further information.
Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/?expert=Eric_Hartwell
Free Creative Writing Examples - Read Book "For Honor" #4
By Kat Jaske
SECTION ONE 1638 A.D.
He was an uncommonly attractive, intriguing man. And, yes, even beautiful, though the first person to tell him so would probably find a sword thrust through his or her gut. Well maybe not her gut. He was a gentleman. Perhaps one could best describe him as a stranger of unknown origin, virtually impossible to keep in one place.
Some claimed he was a first-class rake, completely lacking moral scruples, a consummate lady’s man devoted to charming each pretty woman he met. Others swore he was a saint—God’s gift—an ideal protector who was loyal, honorable, and virtuous to a fault. Regardless of his perceived character, the man was not lazy and indolent, although his current posture—his body propped against the wall—almost supported that erroneous conclusion.
Then again, the man was considered an enigma by even those who knew him well. Did anyone truly know the man who was a complex mishmash of the flirtatious seducer, an all-around lady’s man and a compelling, sensitive, honorable and loyal soul devoted, above all, to God and country? Often enough even he doubted that he really knew himself. Could explain why he always seemed to be searching for something that defied definition and could never seem to tolerate staying in one place for long. In that way he supposed he was just like his best friends: duty and honor bound and always ready for the next adventure.
But duty was so often a poor—no, a paltry comfort. And wine, women, and good food were only invigorating for so long before they lost their novelty and appeal. He sighed and shifted upon the balls of his feet. His recently polished and sharpened sword tapped rhythmically against his right leg.
Bored, that’s what he was, completely bored. No mission to occupy his time, no scandal, no plots to foil. Made one almost wish for a great deal of excitement or another plot to kill the king or queen, or simply to get out of Paris. At least then he could have something useful to do instead of whiling away his days feeling utterly lazy and useless. Maybe he was just getting old, finally. It could have waited longer to catch him, he groused internally as he absently kicked a pebble.
"Aramis," someone called, and the man turned to face the direction of the hail, temporarily setting his brooding aside. If he weren’t careful, he was bound to start following in Athos’ tracks, and the musketeers hardly needed another brooding and lonely and guilt-ridden man. Come to think of it, Aramis couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Athos truly happy since—must have been around the time he’d first become a musketeer. No, he had no desire to fall into that type of melancholy.
"What can I do for you?"
"Aramis." The big man descended upon his fellow musketeer with a mock scowl of disapproval. "What would the lovely Queen of America say? You know, you’re going to ruin that handsome face of yours if you continue this brooding. Then what would I do with all the ladies who would have to turn to me? I couldn’t let them down, but to be in such demand . . ."
"I think you can handle it, mon ami," Aramis informed Porthos, grasping the large man’s shoulder for a brief moment. "That is hardly a problem you would have to deal with, mon cher Porthos, even if I did lose my looks or decide to enter the priesthood. Now young D’Artagnan, well, that is another matter."
Porthos took a step back and placed his hand on the hilt of his cutlass. "That cocky young pup," he replied. "Do I sense an insult to my powers of attraction? I just may have to call you out."
"Very well," Aramis agreed. "Just please be so kind as to leave my face unblemished. I would like the ladies to remember me as I am now."
The large man nodded his head ever so slightly, and the two opponents drew their swords, saluted, then engaged.
"Sacrebleu," D’Artagnan cursed under his breath; that had to be broken up immediately before it became bloody. Quickly, he endeavored to sheathe his longsword, so quickly he nearly missed the scabbard in the process.
No sooner had the young man finally succeeded in sheathing his sword than a hand on his shoulder stayed his effort to interfere in the battle between his two companions. "Athos," the young man protested. "We can’t just stand by and let those two try to kill one another. They’re fellow musketeers and our friends."
Athos, however, obviously felt no compulsion to try to peaceably end that fight. He didn’t even display the slightest unease. "They won’t kill each other," the blond-haired man said with an eerie lack of emotion. "D’Artagnan, you’re an excellent swordsman and as honorable as your father, but you have much to learn about the musketeers. About our friends in particular."
"What’s to learn?" The youth insisted and tried ineffectually to pull away from his fellow musketeer. "They’re going to kill each other unless we do something."
The young man finally shook off Athos’ restraining hand and moved to head towards his dueling companions. "D’Artagnan," Athos’ voice halted him for a moment. "Just remember that Porthos and Aramis take their bouts very seriously. Almost as seriously as Aramis takes death. Wait and see."
Right as the youth came upon the fighters, they bowed and re-sheathed their swords and then turned their attention to young D’Artagnan. "And what can we do for you, mon beau jeune ami?" Still slightly out of breath, Aramis inquired of his handsome young friend
At D’Artagnan’s look of baffled confusion, Porthos nudged Aramis with his elbow. "I believe the young pup is quite confused. We just may have to set him straight."
Aramis nodded and straightened the crucifix that hung from the chain around his neck. "Shall I do the honors, or shall you?"
"Look." D’Artagnan interrupted their exchange, not in the mood to listen to Porthos and Aramis banter back and forth indefinitely, as they were obviously capable of. "I don’t care who tells me what’s going on, but someone better tell me and soon." . . .
Kat Jaske is an English and French teacher in Las Vegas, where her high school selected her swashbuckling, fiction novel, "For Honor", as the featured book for the 2006 Reading Incentive Program. If you cannot wait to read more of the story, order the book from the author web site http://www.forhonor.com
Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/?expert=Kat_Jaske
SECTION ONE 1638 A.D.
He was an uncommonly attractive, intriguing man. And, yes, even beautiful, though the first person to tell him so would probably find a sword thrust through his or her gut. Well maybe not her gut. He was a gentleman. Perhaps one could best describe him as a stranger of unknown origin, virtually impossible to keep in one place.
Some claimed he was a first-class rake, completely lacking moral scruples, a consummate lady’s man devoted to charming each pretty woman he met. Others swore he was a saint—God’s gift—an ideal protector who was loyal, honorable, and virtuous to a fault. Regardless of his perceived character, the man was not lazy and indolent, although his current posture—his body propped against the wall—almost supported that erroneous conclusion.
Then again, the man was considered an enigma by even those who knew him well. Did anyone truly know the man who was a complex mishmash of the flirtatious seducer, an all-around lady’s man and a compelling, sensitive, honorable and loyal soul devoted, above all, to God and country? Often enough even he doubted that he really knew himself. Could explain why he always seemed to be searching for something that defied definition and could never seem to tolerate staying in one place for long. In that way he supposed he was just like his best friends: duty and honor bound and always ready for the next adventure.
But duty was so often a poor—no, a paltry comfort. And wine, women, and good food were only invigorating for so long before they lost their novelty and appeal. He sighed and shifted upon the balls of his feet. His recently polished and sharpened sword tapped rhythmically against his right leg.
Bored, that’s what he was, completely bored. No mission to occupy his time, no scandal, no plots to foil. Made one almost wish for a great deal of excitement or another plot to kill the king or queen, or simply to get out of Paris. At least then he could have something useful to do instead of whiling away his days feeling utterly lazy and useless. Maybe he was just getting old, finally. It could have waited longer to catch him, he groused internally as he absently kicked a pebble.
"Aramis," someone called, and the man turned to face the direction of the hail, temporarily setting his brooding aside. If he weren’t careful, he was bound to start following in Athos’ tracks, and the musketeers hardly needed another brooding and lonely and guilt-ridden man. Come to think of it, Aramis couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Athos truly happy since—must have been around the time he’d first become a musketeer. No, he had no desire to fall into that type of melancholy.
"What can I do for you?"
"Aramis." The big man descended upon his fellow musketeer with a mock scowl of disapproval. "What would the lovely Queen of America say? You know, you’re going to ruin that handsome face of yours if you continue this brooding. Then what would I do with all the ladies who would have to turn to me? I couldn’t let them down, but to be in such demand . . ."
"I think you can handle it, mon ami," Aramis informed Porthos, grasping the large man’s shoulder for a brief moment. "That is hardly a problem you would have to deal with, mon cher Porthos, even if I did lose my looks or decide to enter the priesthood. Now young D’Artagnan, well, that is another matter."
Porthos took a step back and placed his hand on the hilt of his cutlass. "That cocky young pup," he replied. "Do I sense an insult to my powers of attraction? I just may have to call you out."
"Very well," Aramis agreed. "Just please be so kind as to leave my face unblemished. I would like the ladies to remember me as I am now."
The large man nodded his head ever so slightly, and the two opponents drew their swords, saluted, then engaged.
"Sacrebleu," D’Artagnan cursed under his breath; that had to be broken up immediately before it became bloody. Quickly, he endeavored to sheathe his longsword, so quickly he nearly missed the scabbard in the process.
No sooner had the young man finally succeeded in sheathing his sword than a hand on his shoulder stayed his effort to interfere in the battle between his two companions. "Athos," the young man protested. "We can’t just stand by and let those two try to kill one another. They’re fellow musketeers and our friends."
Athos, however, obviously felt no compulsion to try to peaceably end that fight. He didn’t even display the slightest unease. "They won’t kill each other," the blond-haired man said with an eerie lack of emotion. "D’Artagnan, you’re an excellent swordsman and as honorable as your father, but you have much to learn about the musketeers. About our friends in particular."
"What’s to learn?" The youth insisted and tried ineffectually to pull away from his fellow musketeer. "They’re going to kill each other unless we do something."
The young man finally shook off Athos’ restraining hand and moved to head towards his dueling companions. "D’Artagnan," Athos’ voice halted him for a moment. "Just remember that Porthos and Aramis take their bouts very seriously. Almost as seriously as Aramis takes death. Wait and see."
Right as the youth came upon the fighters, they bowed and re-sheathed their swords and then turned their attention to young D’Artagnan. "And what can we do for you, mon beau jeune ami?" Still slightly out of breath, Aramis inquired of his handsome young friend
At D’Artagnan’s look of baffled confusion, Porthos nudged Aramis with his elbow. "I believe the young pup is quite confused. We just may have to set him straight."
Aramis nodded and straightened the crucifix that hung from the chain around his neck. "Shall I do the honors, or shall you?"
"Look." D’Artagnan interrupted their exchange, not in the mood to listen to Porthos and Aramis banter back and forth indefinitely, as they were obviously capable of. "I don’t care who tells me what’s going on, but someone better tell me and soon." . . .
Kat Jaske is an English and French teacher in Las Vegas, where her high school selected her swashbuckling, fiction novel, "For Honor", as the featured book for the 2006 Reading Incentive Program. If you cannot wait to read more of the story, order the book from the author web site http://www.forhonor.com
Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/?expert=Kat_Jaske
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