Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Those Blessed Writing Prompts

I made the dreadful mistake that I am sure (I hope) quite a few of you have made as well.  What could that possibly be you ask?   I allowed someone to read part of my novel(s) that I am working on and they were so disinterested and said the dreaded words “pretty good” while setting the papers down on the table that I call my workstation, then moving on to other discussions or food.  Bleh…

So I did what any insecure aspiring writer would do. I quit.

But just for a time, how stupid was that?  What was I expecting from these readers that I had ambushed to do when they read my little short stories or the jewel encrusted folder that is the haven for my novel?  Well I’ll tell you…

I wanted gush people!!    

So after I realized the errors of my ways, I dusted off my sparkly folder and went back to work.  I did however notice that my writing had changed and just as I go to the gym everyday, I really needed to write the morning pages that I had become accustomed to and exercise my thoughts, writing and words. 

I feel like my writing is back and although I am still trying to find my style, I feel good about it. I no longer am writing for gush but for me. So I am back to writing prompts and I want to enter competitions again.  My novel is coming along now that I am back at it.  I tried not to go back to page 1 and edit for the thousandth time, I just continued on with the story and figure I can change or mesh the styles later?  What do you think?

Anyhoo..  Here is a writing prompt that I posted on Writer’s Digest in April.  Its premise is Bribing an IRS Agent.  I changed it up a little based on a comment made by a wonderful person named Ann.   Hope you like it!!


The doorbell rang and I sat at the kitchen table trying to pretend it wasn’t going to play out this way.  After the last several years, why even pretend?  The mess she and that spectacled bean counter left would never end.  I got up from the table and with the memory of that bitch’s voicemail I opened the door for the IRS. 

“Mr. Gauthier??”  The man at the door in the shiny black suit and sunglasses said darkly.

“Yes, please come in.” I moved back to let him in.  We sat down as he opened his briefcase and began to pull out folders.  He explained the discrepancies of my last two years tax returns and then went on to explain the consequences of blindly signing tax returns and listening to big breasted blond idiots.  Wait, I think that was just in my head.  I hadn’t heard a word he had said until I heard the word jail.

“Listen, isn’t there something we could do here?”  I said with sweat pouring down my temples.  “I mean to make this go away?”

“Are you attempting to bribe an agent of the IRS Mr. Gauthier?”

“I think I am kidding?”  I said clasping my hands together and looking down.

“Maybe there is something we can do” I looked up with relief in the distance. “ I see that you owe over a hundred thousand which would be the right amount of money needed for a hit job.” 

Did I hear him right?  I looked up and he was staring directly at me with those cold blue eyes.  After hearing him out and understanding the object of his murderous desire, I finally agreed.  I would kill the man about to testify at his fraud trial and he would correct my taxes so that all went away.  Hands shook and the deal was done.  What was I doing?

I moved in a fog for the next few days as I studied maps, schedules and photos of the soon to be deceased.  Then it came to me, I knew what I had to do to fix everything.  The plan was in motion already, might as well run with it.

The day had finally came and I was scared.  Armed with the gun Mr. Agent had given me, I followed his witness to the location that I had carefully planned for and just as I thought at 1:30 PM, in that familiar suburban alley. The Mercedes was there.  I walked up and fired two bullets into each of them.  I smiled as I watched the blond hair absorb the blood and the shocked look on his face.  I pulled off the gloves and wrapped the tape with the fingerprints of the IRS agent on the gun and tossed it. 

The next morning, I drank my coffee and read the insurance policy that would take care of all my problems with pictures of my Ex wife, my CPA and the IRS agent flashing across the TV in the background. 


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