I'll make this short as it's late.

Today, write about someone who believes that they have the ability to literally catch the sun. Whether by solar panels, concave aluminum bowls, or even just mason jars set out in the sun, they are attempting to store up as much sunlight as possible.

Why would anyone do this? Do they have a collection of such devices hidden away somewhere? What if they were actually able to capture some of the light and heat of the sun?


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A wolf in sheep’s clothing

Many modern stories use the phrase “a wolf in sheep’s clothing” but omit the moral “harm seek, harm find.” Write a story where the antagonist, seeking to harm others, finds harm herself instead.

Full set of prompts and the entire fable can be found here.

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I'll make this quick as my wrist is killing me today.

Today, imagine yourself as a character, surrounded with the books, words, passages, and characters that turned you into the writer you are today. Now, imagine yourself having conversations with them as you are forced to burn those books in an attempt to stay warm.

Who/what do you burn first? Who provides the most interesting rationale for you to stay their figurative execution? Who do you absolutely refuse to give up, even at the cost of your life?

A bit different today, but enjoy!

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Today, write about a serial prankster that runs around cutting power lines, uniting citizens and police alike as they attempt to catch this small-town criminal. Write the story from either the person causing the pranks, someone assigned to the case, or one of the townspeople who's had their power cut recently.

Is there any indication that troublemaker will be targeting a certain house? Or are they just doing it to cause some excitement in the somewhat sleepy town? Is anyone's life threatened by the pranks?

I challenge you to make the prankster a unique, yet not cliched character! Enjoy!

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Obviously, I've been failing miserably in remembering to post prompts, or attempting to come up with any at all.

Anyway, taking inspiration, albeit far removed, from the ancient Colossus of Rhodes, today, write about someone who becomes obsessed with a stone protrusion in the highlands of Russia. Having only seen pictures in passing and through acquaintances, they rapidly consume media about it, approaching religious fervor.

Later in life, they eventually travel to find this rock, bringing with them a set of chiseling tools. As the rock is nearly a hundred meters tall, and with a lack of climbing equipment, they are left to carving their way up the side, only to make a small hole for themselves at the top. Then, they begin decorating the side.

What made the rock so unique for this person? Do they document their process? What do they carve into it?

Here's to hoping I come up with something better and something to post tomorrow.

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r/promptoftheday: best of 2012, winners edition

So, with no nominations for best response to a prompt and one singular nomination for best prompt posted by someone other than myself, the year's awards were…a bit on the odd side, to be sure. Though we've always been a strange community at heart. I went ahead and dug through some of the older prompts to find a suitable winner, and I think I've chosen the best one that I can think of.

Without further ado, the winners.

citizen72521 has won the best response to a prompt, found here.

Being the only nominee, lowScore swept their category, though they were nominated for this particular prompt.

Both winners will receive a month of reddit gold, courtesy of the admins. Thank you all, and here's to a year of productive writing ahead!

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[W.I.N.T.E.R.] This was Theme Tursdays Prompt, I really liked this, I hope you do too…

When I Need To Erase Reality…


The season of death,




Winter is when the blanket of white eclipses all that was impure,

burying demons beneath the snow allowing me time to contemplate their being

before the ice caps melt and they show their faces once again.

Winter is the pause in my existence,

the board is white washed, leaving nothingness in its wake.

It is blank, staring me in the face with its emptiness,

a place of endless possibilities and minefields of disappointment.

I breathe in the icy stillness and exhale dreams of spring.

The flowers await their renewal underneath the the hard packed snow.

I whisper my fears as my breath makes fog before my face.

I live in the the nothingness that lingers between the seasons of death and rebirth.

The starkness confuses me,

blindly I walk in the direction my heart sends me.

I yearn for direction.

I blaze a path in the virgin snow.

The flakes blot out space and time.

I am in limbo

Freeze frame

Nothing moves

It is just me with a trail of foot prints

The only proof that I am here

The isolation soothes as it terrifies

The stillness is tranquil

Peace envelops me

Blotting out necessity

When I need to erase reality

I dream of


This poem © MoodyMommi Published Jan 3, 2013

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