It’s FRIDAY, you guys! To celebrate the end of the week and to exercise our writing muscles, let’s play a game.
Here’s how it works:
Below, you’ll find a chart with three columns: Character, Setting, and Trait. Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to:
- Select one word from each of the three columns, and then you must
- Write a paragraph (no longer than five sentences) to SHOW ME the character you’ve chosen, in the setting you’ve chosen, possessing the trait you’ve chosen.
Here’s the catch: You cannot use the words you’ve chosen from the chart in your five sentences.
For example, let’s pretend these are my choices:
Character: dragon
Setting: fork in the road
Trait: clumsy
My paragraph might read something like this:
I turn my snout one way and then the other, the scales on my back rippling. Which path leads to the castle? The spade on my tail twitches with indecision, but I won’t solve this problem from the ground. I throw myself into the sky, my wings catching the wind, and then a tree, and then I’m tumbling! With a great crash and a fiery huff, I land in a miserable heap, not two steps from where I started.
Fun, yes? Can you see my character and my setting and my trait?
Now, you try it! Leave your five sentences in the comments section, but don’t tell me which words you’ve chosen. Come back throughout the weekend to cheer your friends on, and to guess which words they’ve selected from the chart.
It’s the ultimate game of SHOW don’t TELL. We’d love you to play with us!
| Character | Setting | Trait |
| alien | basement | angry |
| baseball player | bomb shelter | brave |
| chef | café | clever |
| detective | castle | clumsy |
| dog walker | cave | cold |
| dragon | circus | conceited |
| ghost | desert island | cruel |
| grandparent | doctor’s office | curious |
| house elf | elevator | daring |
| ice skater | football field | friendly |
| king | forest | frustrated |
| last person on earth | fork in the road | grouchy |
| lumberjack | garden | happy |
| movie star | gym | helpful |
| ninja | haunted house | hopeless |
| Olympic athlete | Hogwarts | hot |
| poet | kitchen | hyper |
| president of USA | moon | jealous |
| priest | mountain top | lazy |
| rock star | movie theater | logical |
| sheriff | Never Land | nervous |
| soldier | park | noisy |
| superhero | prison | rude |
| surgeon | sailboat | sad |
| sword juggler | shoe store | scared |
| thief | space ship | selfish |
| vampire | tattoo parlor | smart |
| wizard | tree-house | strong |
| zombie | witness stand | stubborn |
| zookeeper | zoo | uncomfortable |
Shannon Dittemore is an author and speaker. Her books include the Angel Eyes trilogy, a supernatural foray into the realm of angels and demons, as well as the fantastical adventure novel Winter, White and Wicked. Its sequel, Rebel, Brave and Brutal is due out January 10, 2023.
Shannon’s stories feature strong female leads grappling with fear and faith as they venture into the wilds of the unknown. She’s often wondered if she’s writing her own quest for bravery again and again.
It’s a choice she values highly. Bravery. And she’s never more inspired than when young people ball up their fist and punch fear in the face.
To that end, Shannon takes great joy in working with young writers, both in person and online at Go Teen Writers, an instructional blog recognized by Writer’s Digest four years running as a “101 Best Websites for Writers” selection.
For more about Shannon and her books, please visit her website, Instagram, Facebook, Twitter, and Pinterest.
Ashlyn stood up and dusted off her pants. “It’s too dangerous,” her mom had told her, but she just had to try one more time. Gripping the pole, she ran and vaulted, landing right in her boyfriend’s arms. Joe smiled and grabbed his football. Ashlyn returned the grin, pecked joe on the cheek, and kicked her soccer ball towards the goal.
Ooh, fun! on a football field. And I’m thinking she must be a daring Olympic athlete.
I’m picturing some really fit people now. Maybe I should go do my exercises…
“Get real, you start this fight over and over just to lose! How can I judge, when I always burn the popcorn, you ask? Easy, you’re stupider than me.” At least she had someone to teach her stuff and help clean up her messes. After she shrieked in her inevitable defeat, I hurled my bucket towards her, only the container crashed into the back of a recliner, spewing a shower of yellow and black popcorn *I’d* clean alone.
Intriguing… I want to read more!
Thanks! :0)
He leaped to his feet and slammed his fist next to the judge’s gavel. “I won’t stand for this! I study magic, not the law: therefore, I am entitled not to heed it. I know what I saw, I know what I did, and I know for a fact that you’re wasting my time. Be glad that I haven’t smitten you with lightning yet.”
It seems unsmart to make a wizard angry. I take it he’s at a witness stand, and I’m curious to what happened. Intriguing.
I already love this character and find them extremely entertaining.
My guess is frustrated wizard at witness stand. This guy is bursting with personality, even with a few sentences.
With a glance over my shoulder, I slid closer to the shelf. I opened my jacket and reached for a pair of bright red converse, careful to keep an eye on the cash register attendant. She bore a strained smile as she spoke with a mother daughter duo. My heart slammed against my chest when I pulled the converse close and concealed them beneath my jacket. Now I just had to make it to the door without being spotted.
A scared thief in a shoe store. But I’d say she’s also a bit daring. Nice details and vivid verbs. I could see the scene well.
Yes! Thank you!
Good job!
Thank you!
I love your word choice! Great job!
I glided gracefully across the rectangular stretch of grass, which was marked off in white lines every five yards, as I pretended to be sliding across a white, slippery rink. A player jogged toward me, his jersey streaked with grass stains and carrying a brown, oval shaped ball. I waved enthusiastically to him and exlaimed, “HEY!!! Haven’t I seen you around here before?” He stared back at me as he passed me, but I just smiled and continued walking.
I like her whimsy. :0) I’m guessing she’s a friendly ice skater on a football field. Fun character.
My turn! : D
“Fine, go get a more capable adult,” I grumbled, “but I’m going in.” I turned and began wheeling as fast as I could toward the little old cottage, which looked as though it were about to fall over. Louis sputtered something about ‘the nerve of old ladies’ behind me. As I approached the front porch, my hearing aids picked up something odd, like whispering or…
“A ghost,” I murmured. “Louisa dear, you were right!”
Ooh I like her very much. Is she a daring grandparent in (or near) a haunted house? I also see bits of frustration and lots of curiosity. 🙂
Two out of three! (I didn’t pick daring.) I guess I didn’t write number three very well. 😛 Whoops. Anyway, thanks for guessing!
My guess is grouchy.
Great job! I like how the grandma is the one to try something crazy.
She chooses a seat in the top row, next to a boy engrossed in a text conversation, just as the lights dim. She scans the staircases, shifting uncomfortably, as the opening credits begin, but within minutes she’s gotten so swept up in the story that she fails to notice the man climbing the stairs. She spots him entering the row, giving a little wave to the boy beside her, and she tenses, fight-or-flight kicking in, but it’s too late; he sits down *through* her, his form going straight through hers the way an airplane slips through a cloud (except a cloud, at least, is water vapor, is *something,*) and an icy chill ripples through her body as she bolts away, shivering. Eight years, and that feeling hasn’t gotten any easier.
I LOVE that you don’t reveal that she’s a ghost right out of the gate. It adds a nice element of suspense.
Creepy! Good job!
The blood rushes through the veins of my eyes, though does not course through my eternal body. I wither around the scent of rose petals and pine leaves, until I see my target: an angel on land, who has yet to grow her wings. I strive to be near her, to be close enough to feel her neck against my lips. I crave her, she as my slave, like an addiction. I’ll be the master which possesses her wings, and only then, when I sink my teeth into her delicate skin, will I give her my permission to use them.
A selfish (and cruel) vampire in a park. Chilling excerpt, Lily. Good job!
Wonderful job! Your symbolism blows me away.
Yep, spot on! Thank you so much!!
The wooden boards creak beneath my feet, perhaps the first thing I’ve managed to interact with the in physical world. Every hypothesis must be tested, so I stomp again, but this time nothing happens. Then the wind blows, bending the boughs and causing this tiny structure to shiver once more. I sigh, but it’s no matter; I have endless time to explore my abilities. I move over to the children’s drawing scattered across the floor, now knowing that these transparent fingers cannot touch anything wood-based, but wondering if somehow crayons or pencil lead will be different.
Interesting. Your premise and your character seem like they’d be fun to follow.
Thanks so much! 😀
A sad ghost in a haunted house?
1/3. Guess I didn’t do a great job XP
No, you did great! 🙂
She wandered down the ancient hallways, watching the ivy slowly eat away at the discolored wallpaper. Time blended together, and it seemed only yesterday that the lamps were lit with a merry light, and the sounds of laughter rang through the house. The hole in her heart ached, and a single tear escaped her eye. She descended the rotted mess that used to be the stairs, her body lighter than a raven’s feather. The sunlight that filtered through the holes in the roof illuminated her, but it faded to grey, like everything did now.
A sad ghost in a haunted house. I love this, it’s so very pretty.
Almost, but not quite. Very good guess, though.
Also, thank you! You’re very kind.
I see your scene in my mind. Beautiful job! 🙂
Thank you! I’m always happy when someone says they can see it.
I hate my rotting flesh, the constant smell of decay. That’s why I hide in these flower beds, burying myself in the scent of growth. Ha, burying myself. If only I could be like these flowers; if only being covered in earth had made me alive and beautiful. But I can never be a flower, because even when they rot away, like me, their rebirth will always make them alluring while I will always drive the living away.
Ooh a hopeless zombie in a garden! Ouch it hurts! Good job!
Spot on! and thank you! I feel kinda bad about making you sad, but I’m so glad I managed to convey the right things!
“If only I could be like these flowers; if only being covered in earth had made me alive and beautiful.”
*sobs* This paragraph was so beautiful and sad and emotional, all at the same time. Awesome work!
I am blown away. This is beautiful.
This is beautiful!! <3
Thank you all so much! You’re so kind!
I winced and tried to sidle away and off the little stage that was the hatch to belowdecks, but the captain’s grip on my arm was firm. I was nervous, but I swallowed it down, stepped back from the captain, and began. There were just two blades in my leaping hands, but as I relaxed, I added the third from a sheath around my waist. The wood boards beneath me tilted slightly, and I gasped, but righted myself. I sighed in relief, but then panicked as my right hand knocked my left off course and I threw myself to the side as gleaming metal hurtled towards the deck.
Oooo I love it! A nervous sword juggler on a sailboat?
Close! We’re not allowed to say the word we used though. I’m glad you like it 🙂
I might have already put this up, but I’m not sure. If so: oops 🙂
I winced and tried to sidle away and off the little stage that was the hatch to below decks, but the captain’s grip on my arm was firm. I was nervous, but I swallowed it down, stepped back from the captain, and began. There were just two blades in my leaping hands, but as I relaxed, I added the third from a sheath around my waist. The wood boards beneath me tilted slightly, and I gasped, but righted myself. I sighed in relief, but then panicked as my right hand knocked my left off course and I threw myself to the side as gleaming metal hurtled towards the deck.
(Wow, this was…way fun. Here goes:)
The strong espresso fragrance, the chattering of college students over coffee, and Today’s Specials scrawled in pink and blue on chalkboard menus made an unorthodox confessional, but there was nothing unorthodox about my confessor. After I’d finished unburdening my soul to him, he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and asked, “In order for a sin to be mortal, it must be done with full knowledge, correct?”
“Y-y-yes…”
“Then if you didn’t know it was wrong, it can’t possibly be mortal. It’s a very simple syllogism; even my high school students could draw the Venn diagram for it.”
Nice details for the café. Can see the setting well. I’m guessing a logical priest? You have my interest piqued on what was done.
Yup, you got it! Haha, I’m not sure what she did myself, but I’ve got experience as the over-scrupulous penitent. 🙂
I peered at the odd structure, breathing a small flame to illuminate the sight. A shroud of smoke surrounded it. The thing was massive and certainly wasn’t there during the day. A path of wreckage marked a path through the forest. Could it have made the noise that woke me up? Cautiously, I stepped forward, tucking my long neck in and flattening my wings against my body. What could be inside? Was there even an entrance? Where did it come from? What if it was dangerous? I halted and stepped back. I shouldn’t be here by myself. Maybe I should return later, with Avera… I turned around and started back towards my home, but I took one last look at the strange thing that had appeared during the night. An uneasiness settled upon me. As I continued back, I sighed, trying to shake my worry. It would be fine… but I didn’t know that. I picked up the pace, beat my wings, and took to the air, towards the cave.
Great, now I want to write this story. 😀
Hmm, scared (or nervous?) dragon finding a spaceship? Interesting and unique combination. I like it.
You got it. And thanks.
I selected a tiny packet from the container on the corner of the table, tore it open, and poured its gritty, crystalline contents into the container of fragrant, translucent-brown liquid before me, just as I had observed the earthlings doing. A nearby earthling- not quite an elder but no longer a youth, most likely a female, although I have always struggled memorizing earthlings’ gender distinctions- dipped the rounded end of one of their silver utensils into their container and swirled it around, so I followed suit. The earthlings called this form of sustenance “coffee”, and it was supposed to keep them awake and alert. It was also served hot, which I felt need for since Earth’s surface temperature is 20 degrees below that of my home planet, and my suit’s temperature regulator was malfunctioning. I considered my self lucky that my human appearance simulator was still functioning and ingested the bittersweet liquid, allowing its warmth to sooth the frigid feelings that enveloped me.
(Also, by the way, I find your example of a clumsy dragon adorable. I can just picture it. 🙂 )
A cold alien just enjoying sit time at a café. So long as he/she’s friendly, I’m good with the fact this alien can blend in with us. Ha!
Spot on! And yeah, in my mind they were friendly. 🙂
Aaaaaah! I want to read so many of these stories in their entirety. Great work everyone. You have strong, unique voices. It was fun seeing all the different types of stories that this exercise generated.
I can barely hear the crowd over the ringing in my ears. It’s been decades since I landed on Earth, since I joined this troop, but stepping out in front of all those Earthlings is still so daunting to me. I slowly open my big black orbs and see the ringmaster beckoning to me. Taking a deep breath, I shake the fear off my shoulders and step into the ring.
A nervous alien at a circus, per chance? What’s the act? Why must the alien perform? This paragraph raises all kinds of questions. Good job.
You got it!! She’s a tightrope walker. 😀 She always felt so out of place everywhere else, but the circus is somewhere that she feels she fits in.
Haha, now I want to write a short story. Thank you for your kind words! <3
My lips stick together, tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. My nerves bite at my stomach, lacerating what muscle dares cling to adrenaline. The others running track have a build much stronger than mine, and their eyes full of a determination that burns my throat and my eyes. I watch them run the track in a trance; the grip of my competitive obsession showing no signs of abandon. All eyes turn to me as my legs move in sharp routine, for the chance to take the hand of an agent to lead me to the finish line.
(I really enjoyed this exercise and am happy to do get back at it after a long break! Any and all comments are welcome—Criticism is absolutely welcome, but I do ask that it is constructive! Wonderful job to all of you who have participated! <3
As my stomach lurched again I tried to focus on whether the paneling on the walls was oak or maple. The quick, upward movement continued. The tiny room reminded me of the time a giant spruce tree fell on top of me: trapped, with no way out. Finally the room stood still and the shiny metal door opened. I decided right then and there that from now on I’ll always take the stairs!
My trench coat buckled round my waist and magnifying glass in hand. I adjust my cap so I can look under the dresser and switch on the flashlight. The king and queen watch me breathlessly. I check, ah! I exclaim here is the ring. I reach under the dresser, it’s in my grasp. As I retract my hand and arm, I lift it up too soon, it hits the edge of the dresser making the ring fly from my fingers and land back where it was before right next to the flashlight.
A clumsy detective in a castle? Very intriguing.
Yep! that’s it!
This was a lot harder than I thought but SO fun.
I thought I’d do one more sense I haven’t done a writing exercise in forever! As always all thoughts\critique are welcome!! <3
My eyes sting and sweat pours off my finger tips as I watch my friend stand beside a trench, dirt staining her deathly pale feet. Deep cuts slice into her palms from the rusty shovel she holds in her hands; the same shovel that enslaved her for a lifetime. Her toes curl over the edge of her trench, droplets of blood dripping from her lacerated fingertips and into the soil. The soil buries the tops of her toes as she takes a step into her trench, letting her body fall into the dirt. I call her name and she turns, slowly, her face bearing a look of a mix of shame and determination. Her knuckles turn white as she grips the shovel and she looks away, pulling mounds dirt over her legs and chest like a blanket; I open my mouth to scream her name, but soil fills my mouth instead of air.
That was terrifying to read
My work here is done. lol Thank you for your feedback!
My younger self used to wonder how the birds in my mother’s aviary lived their lives. Now the present me thinks it must have been a type of torture. My legs ache, throbbing with the pain of disuse, and they confiscated my duffle bag because blades of any kind aren’t allowed in here. Heat reflects off the concrete walls, and beyond the tiny curtains of my bunk it was so crowded I couldn’t breathe. It was hot and I missed the cold and the freedom of my old life, I missed the music and the crowd and the air and the entire world before we had to go under.
“I know who did it,” I say, trying to keep the tears in. There is no answer- as if the empty, brightly lit room is silently curious- so I continue: “I know who set off the bomb.” I let the confession echo. I’m still not sure what prompted me to come here, of all places, but I needed to say it. Maybe the Town Hall just seemed the most apropos, or maybe I’m delirious. But I needed- still need- to say it, so I let God be the judge and the empty room the jury as I give my testament. Because I know who killed them… who killed them all.
(Wow, that was fun! I might turn this into a short story now!)
I would love to read that short story! Great job!
FANTASTIC JOB, ALL! I checked in throughout the weekend, approving comments and reading as I did. I love this community and how you all cheer one another on! Thank you so much for playing.
Thank you!!!
Thank you for starting this! It was really fun!
Thank you so much! I really enjoy these writing exercises. I always end up inspired after I do them.
The tiny humans huddle in each other’s arms. I pace by the door, trying to listen for the sounds of their parents’ footsteps over the explosions outside our hiding place. These stupid humans, killing each other over land and currency and which sky-being they choose to worship. I want to run outside and pull all their ships from the sky. But my job is to guard the humans, and so here I will stay.
(I wanna write this now!)
Guess I’ll try my hand
I slip into the large empty room filled with some sort of devices. Their names rest on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t reach them. Scowling, I run my fingers over the weights resting on the ground. Dust collects on my finger tips before I get destracted by another device. All of the worn devices and machines that were falling apart remind me how much time I’ve been alone.
(I know I did one before and this is a few days late and a few words to long, but this is a really fun exercise)
“Hey, they’re not my dogs, so really you should be blaming their owners for bad training. And I couldn’t just leave them outside unattended! I got a job to do! Ooo, these look nice,” the customer bent over and yanked a glittery high heel out of a sleepy poodle’s mouth. “Ugh, slobber. Do you have any other clean pairs?”
I grin to myself as I see the tall pines looming over me. No one could follow me here, least of all that pudgy shop woman. I and my new treasure were safe, and I wasn’t even short of breath. This had been one of my easier escapes. I must remember this place. Well-fortified and hidden nooks were few and far between, and this was one of the best. Maybe I could even bring her here. She would understand. It might be dangerous, but who cares? I decided to do it.