Turning Your Favorite Song Into a Short Story - 4/26

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Brian
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Turning Your Favorite Song Into a Short Story - 4/26

Postby Brian » Tue Apr 26, 2011 7:26 am


Brian
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Turning Your Favorite Song Into a Short Story - 4/26

Postby Brian » Tue Apr 26, 2011 7:26 am

Use the words from your favorite song (or the song that is stuck in your head), mix them up and write a short short story using every word.

You can post your response (750 words or fewer) here.

bblaske
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RE: Turing Your Favorite Song Into a Short Story - 4/26

Postby bblaske » Tue Apr 26, 2011 1:43 pm

You send me. You send me - rejections to me, always to me
You thrill me. Honestly, you'd thrill me - if ony to buy a story or two
At first I had writing infatuation, but oh its lasted so long!
Now I find myself wanting to - but blocks make it all wrong.

You send me. My darling, you send me -rejections aren't new try a dollar or two

Bob Blaske

vlmckay
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RE: Turning Your Favorite Song Into a Short Story - 4/26

Postby vlmckay » Wed Apr 27, 2011 11:11 am

I always wondered what I'd do without you, now I know...I'd sit and write about our tortured love and how we fought for control of our lives.

say hello
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Re: Turning Your Favorite Song Into a Short Story - 4/26

Postby say hello » Wed Apr 27, 2011 3:51 pm

Tumbling Tumblewords:

I'm an unknown wordsmith writing all day long,
Tumblewords around me sing a constant song.
Nights underneath a neon moon,
I write along and pen this tune.

Hear them mumbling round,
Because I'm in love with their sound,
Here at my desk I'll be found
Drifting along with the tumbling tumblewords.

Cares of the past are behind
Know where to go so I'll find
Just where my tale will wind
Drifting along with the tumbling tumblewords.

I know when night has gone
That a new script's born at dawn.

I'll keep writing along
Deep in my heart is a song
Here at my desk I belong
Writing along with my tumbling tumblewords.

Neets
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RE: Turning Your Favorite Song Into a Short Story - 4/26

Postby Neets » Fri Apr 29, 2011 4:08 am

Your friends don't dance safe dance. They abuse their friend's behind. If they don't dance, we can act like we came from out of this world, well, they are no friends of mine.

You can act real rude and totally removed, We can leave your friends behind. And I CAN act like an imbecile, and surprise 'em with the victory cry. Francais?

If we don't nobody will, everybody look at your hands, and we can dress real neat from our hats to our feet.

We've got all your life and mine, is it safe to dance?

Everybody takin' the cha-a-a-ance, we can leave your friend's behind.

___________________________________

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wIB2gxmF ... re=related


Link to song. Warning: the song is an earworm, use with caution. Link provided implies no liability in the event of an earworm.

_________________________

More visually stimulating link: (Yay!)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0kXwW6re ... ature=fvwp

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RE: Turning Your Favorite Song Into a Short Story - 4/26

Postby missycamp » Sat Apr 30, 2011 5:27 am

Trouble Me (10,00 Maniacs)

Trouble me with all your cares and your worries.. I am here for you, and you are never ANY trouble. I WANT to hear your woes. Trouble me on the days when you spent spent....I have enough energy for both of us. Why let your shoulders bend underneath this burden when my back is sturdy and strong? I am a workhouse when it comes to taking on loved one's pain...so please, Trouble Me!

Speak to me; don't mislead me...I can see through it from years of experience, and I AM HERE FOR YOU! The clam I feel means a storm is swelling...there's no telling how it starts or how it ends...LET ME HELP YOU, my dear old friend. So please speak to me...why are you building this thick brick wall to defend me? Can't you see I truly WANT to be let in?...when your silence is my greatest fear....I truly DESIRE to hear of your pains, and I need no protecting! I AM HERE FOR YOU, no strings attached!


Please speak to me! Again, why let your shoulders bend underneath this burden when my back is sturdy and strong....I AM FOREVER HERE FOR YOU! I want it all, I realty do! So speak to me!

Let me have a look inside these eyes...while I'm learning....I can and will read you in time...please don't hide them just because of tears....I am no stranger to them myself, and I understand; there is no shame in them.

Let me send you off to sleep with a 'there there now, stop your tossing and turning'. I am good at quelling problems, and getting you better unfettered sleep if only you'd let me...


Just let me know where the hurt is and how to heal...I can help you! Spare me? Don't spare me spare me anything troubling...please trouble me with all your cares and your worries...can't you tell it is what I truly want? So speak to me—and let our words build a shelter from the storm. You are never alone with me here...I can calm you, aid you, shelter you...if you'd let me!

And lastly, let me know what I can mend...in your own words. There's more, honestly, than my sweet friend you can see—true trust is what I'm offering...if you Trouble Me!

missycamp
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RE: Turning Your Favorite Song Into a Short Story - 4/26

Postby missycamp » Sat Apr 30, 2011 10:23 pm

Trouble Me (10,00 Maniacs)

Trouble me with all your cares and your worries.. I am here for you, and you are never ANY trouble. I WANT to hear your woes. Trouble me on the days when you spent spent....I have enough energy for both of us. Why let your shoulders bend underneath this burden when my back is sturdy and strong? I am a workhouse when it comes to taking on loved one's pain...so please, Trouble Me!

Speak to me; don't mislead me...I can see through it from years of experience, and I AM HERE FOR YOU! The clam I feel means a storm is swelling...there's no telling how it starts or how it ends...LET ME HELP YOU, my dear old friend. So please speak to me...why are you building this thick brick wall to defend me? Can't you see I truly WANT to be let in...when your silence is my greatest fear....I truly DESIRE to hear of your pains, and I need no protecting! I AM HERE FOR YOU, no strings attached!


Please speak to me! Again, why let your shoulders bend underneath this burden when my back is sturdy and strong....I AM FOREVER HERE FOR YOU! I want it all, I realty do! So speak to me!

Let me have a look inside these eyes...while I'm learning....I can and will read you in time...please don't hid them just because of tears....I am no stranger to them myself, and I understand; there is no shame in them.

Let me send you off to sleep with a 'there there now, stop your tossing and turning'. I am good at quelling problems, and getting you better unfettered sleep if only you'd let me...


Just let me know where the hurt is and how to heal...I can help you! Spare me? Don't spare me spare me anything troubling...please trouble me with all your cares and your worries...can't you tell it is what I truly want? So speak to me—and let our words build a shelter from the storm. You are never alone with me here...I can calm you, aid you, shelter you...if you'd only let me!

And lastly, let me know what I can mend...in your own words. There's more, honestly, than my sweet friend you can see—true trust is what I'm offering...if you Trouble Me!

jeteakp
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RE: Turning Your Favorite Song Into a Short Story - 4/26

Postby jeteakp » Sun May 01, 2011 7:52 am

Thank God, Things Are As Well As They Are


Like many southern youth I was raised in a very strict home environment. Companions were not allowed so there weren’t any best girlfriends, or school associates hanging out around my house. Just me and a few siblings. My routine consisted of attending school, doing homework, practicing the Trombone, participating in marching band activities, household chores, working as an unpaid day-laborer on family owned rental properties, and Piano lessons. As you would expect, I could not wait to leave home and when I did - I kept as much distance between myself and immediate family as long as possible.

After having my own family, I sworn I would never make the same mistakes my parents made. So I raised my children totally different. I allowed them to talk about their feelings in a respectful way, their friends and school mates were allowed to visit or hang around the house when I was present. I let them decide what school activities they wanted to be involved in; however, I made the ultimate decision that they would be members of the Scouts and would work summer jobs. When they became preschoolers, I made the track down south for them to visit and get to know family members once a year. Through the years, I have dealt with, extinguished, and overlooked personality conflicts between members of my household; some problems extinguished themselves while others remained. But daily, “I thank God that things are as well as they are.”

Finally, the children have grown-up and moved away to begin their own adult lives. I hope they don’t make the same mistakes as I did. I hope they chart their own path, make their own rules, enjoy every breath they are blessed to take, be generous with their time, do something for others larger than they do for themselves, and live productive lives.

Now on a regular basis I make a long distance call to my mother. When I asked her how she was faring, these words I heard her say, “I thank God that things are as well as they are.” We talk about her neighbors, Toby her Chihuahua, doctor appointments, church members, family members still living in her area, nursing home residents, people she saw recently and the dead.

When I finish my conversation on the telephone, after talking to my mother way back home. I thank God that things are as well as they are.

When talking to my mother on the telephone, I regularly notice her voice doesn’t sound as strong as it used to - when she use to call us in for dinner, or call me to retrieve something for her as a child. But she told me “every-thing is going along all right.” When I asked her how she was feeling, her answer was still the same. I thank God that things are as well as they are.

I realize my mother is slowing down due to her age, and the energy she use to have is long gone; but she is still able to run errands, plan and prepare meals, oversee the care of her ninety-year old brother, visit the sick, and step out of her front-door still looking like a model wearing a hat and three inch heels.

At the end of each telephone call. There is a tug on my heart and a flash in my mind hinting - one day these telephone calls will be over, when she or I join the ranks of dead family members gone before us. I tried to hold back the tears when I told her Good-by. I didn’t want her to hear me cry. And when I thought about my friends, some who have no mother at all. Then I thank God that things are as well as they are.

cam
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RE: Turning Your Favorite Song Into a Short Story - 4/26

Postby cam » Sun May 01, 2011 5:02 pm

I used words from one of my current favourite songs "Need you now" by Lady Antebellum

I hope you'll like it :-)


INVINCIBLE

It’s a quarter after one.

I can’t recall how much I’ve had to drink. Nor do I care. Dragging me kicking and screaming out of the club, May knocked me on my head and told me how it was the last time she’d take me out dancing and drinking. I laughed and asked if she’d like to come back to my home and drink some more. “Tell you what I’ll do. When we’re home I’m going to tape your sorry arse to your bed and shove sleeping pills down your throat. You need to get some freaking sleep!”

I got out of bed the minute she left. For the life of me, I can’t find a goddamn thing to drink. May probably raided my cupboard and took them all away. Bitch! Always tries to do what’s good for me.

Looking around the lounge as if I have never been here before, I stand still for a couple of minutes or so before walking to the bookshelf and grab a brown paper bag off it. Emptying its content on the floor, I slump into the couch. Pictures scattered all around the floor, perfect memories start flooding in. Now is not exactly the best time to do this. I know. My brain tells me to put the photos away. Go to bed. Get some sleep.

Instead, I’m reaching for the phone. I’ve given in. I’ve lost all control. I’m all alone and I can’t fight it anymore.

“Hello, it’s me”, my voice trembles. Tears are coming like a brutal army invading my soul. Struggling to hold them back, I continue, “I’m a little drunk and I know I said I wouldn’t call but… I need you now! I don’t know how I can do anything without you. Please come home! I’d rather hurt than feel nothing at all. Baby, please come home! I just need you now!”

No reply on the other end.

“I wonder if I ever cross your mind.” I whisper hopelessly. “For me, it happens all the time.”

I hang up and lie down on the couch. God knows how much I want another shot of whiskey right now. I have now stopped staring at the photos. Instead, I’m looking at the door. I can’t stop staring at it. I’m wishing he’d come sweeping in the way he did before. I’m seeing all sorts of things that we did together once. I’m seeing his smile. I’m seeing his eyes. I’m seeing us, facing each other and all curled up on the wooden floor in front of the warm fireplace. He’s stroking my bare back as I snuggle my face into his chest and breathe in his scent – a sort of scent that reminds me of Heaven and Earth.

Yet there is one thing that I still refuse to see. My everything within screams and fights it and tells me that it’s not real, that all this is just a bad dream and tomorrow, when I open my eyes, there he will be, in flesh and bones, smiling at me as he plants a kiss on my sleepy face. Everything in me convinces me that he will be here, right next to me, and we will grow old and grey and travel the world. Everything in me yells at me for the thought of giving up, of believing that he is not here anymore.

I want to blame someone, anyone. I want to blame the world. I want to blame the ground I stand on.

But I know none of it will bring him back.

Because no matter how much I want to fight, the truth is death comes anytime it wants. Death is invincible. And I can choose to let the darkness it brings consume my every step on the road ahead.

Or I can choose not to be dragged by but rather walk with memories of him on a brand new road. I can choose to rebuild my happiness because happy is how he would want me to always be. I can choose to open my heart to new love and live my life the way that honours his love for me.

I can choose to let love help me conquer my own demons to let the best of me shine through these dark hours.

Because, ironically, like death, love is invincible.

*Thanks for reading* :-)

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