Kids Writing Prompts: February 2017

Kids Writing Prompts

It’s time to revisit our newest category of writing prompts! It’s never too early (or late) to embrace creativity. Although I tend to create darker content, it is good practice to take a step back and enjoy some light-hearted content. Below, you will find three new writing prompts that are perfect for all ages. It’s time to start your story!

On a note of our other content, I have to apologize for the lack of a new flash fiction last week. I had intended to only take one week off after Red Herring, but it quickly became two while I was focusing on my rough draft. I have begun some work for a new flash fiction. It could easily be a series–that will depend on the feedback I receive from you all. I’m going for satire, a new style for me, so any and all feedback you can offer will certainly be appreciated.

As always, you can share feedback as well as any stories and artwork you create based on our stuff in the comments below or on our Facebook page. Also follow us on Pinterest and Twitter (we don’t post often but we try to keep it updated)!

Kids Writing Prompts-Feb2017-Her life changed when she learned the monsters were protecting her.
Her life changed when she learned the monsters were protecting her.
Kids Writing Prompts-Feb2017-The fallen tree limb transformed into a gleaming sword.
The fallen tree limb transformed into a gleaming sword.
Kids Writing Prompts-Feb2017-The large egg cracked open and the creature within looked around the room.
The large egg cracked open and the creature within looked around the room.

 

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Tipsy Scribbles: Projects

Tipsy Scribbles

Projects

 

This week I am giving everyone a peek into some art commissions I am working on for my husband’s coworkers. The first is inspired by my 3×4 inches Afternoon Coffee chalk pastel. This picture is 8×10 inches, which allows for more detail.

The second set of drawings are for a client that was already a fan of my other works and asked if I would like to draw a wolf howling. So far, I have not been very confident in my ability to draw dogs. With a little practice and patience, I have completed an ink sketch and a continuous line picture. Because my client was very open with his request, I have decided to give some options. I am also working on a chalk pastel version of this wolf as well.

I am fairly new to commission work. I have done some art on request several years ago, when I first got back into artwork. I was not very confident in my work and I hope to revisit those pieces of art when my skills have improved. Until then, I will continue to practice, practice, practice. I would also like to apologize to anyone I have turned down for commission work. I personally cannot allow myself to sell something I am not 100% pleased with. I may not be a legendary artist with pieces worth an unimaginable amount of money, but I care about how my work makes people feel. Art should reach your heart on a very intimate level.

Afternoon Coffee 8x10 chalk pastel on paper - Tipsy Scribbles - A picture says a thousand words when wine loosens the tongue.
Afternoon Coffee
Howling Wolf Continuous Line - Tipsy Scribbles - A picture says a thousand words when wine loosens the tongue.
Howling Wolf
Howling Wolf Ink Sketch - Tipsy Scribbles - A picture says a thousand words when wine loosens the tongue.
Howling Wolf Ink Sketch

 

“A drawing is simply a line going for a walk.” — Paul Klee

 

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Fantasy Writing Prompts: February 2017

Fantasy Writing Prompts

It’s the time of year where reality catches up to us. Tax season. I filed ours this morning and I certainly need some fantasy to escape to. With Two Steps From Hell playing, I put together three new fantasy prompts for you to use in your own fantasy escape.

Late last night [about 8:30], I started chapter six of the untitled Brix and Gregor draft. It’s slowly coming together. I am completely unsure what will be featured on this next Flash Fiction Friday. Is there anything you would like to see? I have way too many ideas going at one time. Perhaps I’ll use one of the prompts below?

Fantasy Writing Prompts-Feb2017-The king stumbled from his throne and collapsed to the floor of the empty chamber.
The king stumbled from his throne and collapsed to the floor of the empty chamber.
Fantasy Writing Prompts-Feb2017-Two thousand warriors drew their swords for a war they would not win.
Two thousand warriors drew their swords for a war they would not win.
Fantasy Writing Prompts-Feb2017-The dragon graciously welcomed the guest to its kingdom.
The dragon graciously welcomed the guest to its kingdom.

 

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Tipsy Scribbles: Fluffy Clouds

Tipsy Scribbles

Fluffy Clouds

 

The artist is back in bizz! I think I’ve finally kicked the sickness to the curb (knock on wood) and it’s time to get back to it. I have so much I want to do at once but I’m going to have to pace myself. Have you ever been unable to work due to sickness or other business and you’re finally able to pick a project to start back up? How do you pick? Well first, I have Tipsy Scribbles. I love my little mini chalks and I hope you do, too. There’s something about large landscapes forced into a small space that makes me happy. There’s very little detail, but if you look close enough your mind begins to create things that aren’t there: leaves, ripples in the water, grass, bushes, twigs. The imagination is a beautiful and wondrous thing.

Fluffy Clouds Chalk Pastel on Paper 3x4 inches - Tipsy Scribbles - A picture says a thousand words when wine loosens the tongue.
Fluffy Clouds

 

My next project will have to be a commission work I’ve received, then back to my Magic: The Gathering alter project. I also have a writing project I’ve been working on. The artist is writing? I know, I should stick with what I know. But when you have an extremely active imagination, it seems to leak out. And maybe someday I’ll finish knitting the 5 different projects I’ve started and haven’t finished. Whew! I better get back to it. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this mini mountain view.

“Love is a canvas furnished by nature and embroidered by imagination.”  –Voltaire

 

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Valentine’s Day Writing Prompts: February 2017

Valentine’s Day Writing Prompts

As you may have realized by now, Leslie and I aren’t big on the mushy side of romance. Our idea of celebrating Valentine’s Day is raiding the marked down chocolate on the 15th of February. That inspired the first of this week’s writing prompts. If you’re looking for the sappy love story, these probably are not the writing prompts for you. Or maybe they are. After all, it is your story. And please share those stories with us. Happy Valentine’s Day, everyone!

I would like to remind you that I’m taking this week off of flash fiction so I can get everything sorted out after the ten part series of Red Herring. I really hope you enjoyed it. Detective Peirson will see more cases in the future. Hopefully in a longer format than flash fiction. I’m currently in Chapter 3 of the first draft for a story containing Brix and Gregor that I’m pretty excited about.

You can follow us on Facebook and Twitter to stay up to date on our activities or subscribe to our site to never miss new posts full of artwork and stories!

Valentine's Day Writing Prompts-Feb2017-They were content in sharing the last box of chocolate from the post-Valentine's Day sale.
They were content in sharing the last box of chocolate from the post-Valentine’s Day sale.
Valentine's Day Writing Prompts-Feb2017-She smirked as she tossed another pink teddy bear into the roaring flames.
She smirked as she tossed another pink teddy bear into the roaring flames.
Valentine's Day Writing Prompts-Feb2017-A widower awoke to a message in blood upon his wall. I love you. Always.
A widower awoke to a message in blood upon his wall. “I love you. Always.”
Valentine's Day Writing Prompts-Feb2017-A single rose with a letter attached hung from the door. The letter simply stated, See you at 800.
A single rose with a letter attached hung from the door. The letter simply stated, “See you at 800.”

 

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Red Herring: Part 10

Start from the beginning?

Reread last week’s Part 9?

Red Herring Cover Part 10 - Conclusion to the FREE Flash Fiction series!

The door to the cramped interrogation room thumped shut.

Charlie Whittmore sat silently, handcuffed to the table with his fingers laced. He looked up as Peirson slid into the chair opposite him. Peirson placed a small voice recorder on the table between them, and with an exaggerated effort he pressed play.

“You wanted to speak with me personally?” Peirson asked.

Charlie breathed a heavy sigh. “I killed Irma Patterson.”

“That’s a different song than the one you were singing back at the Carmine residence.”

Charlie sighed again and restarted. Peirson realized he had interrupted a prepared speech. “I killed Irma Patterson. She found out about the affair Carol and I had, making Jack my son and not John’s. Irma would have told John, and I had no idea what John would have done to any of us, including Jack.”

Peirson reached for the recorder and pressed stop. “Bravo. A well delivered speech that is now on record.” Peirson stared at Charlie, who now had small beads of sweat forming along his hairline. “Alright, show’s over, enough of the bullshit. It’s obvious that you were in on it, but I know you did not kill Irma.”

Charlie opened his mouth, but Peirson used his hands to make the “time out” symbol.

“I’m going to tell you what I think happened,” Charlie’s mouth clamped and his head dropped between his slumped shoulders. Peirson took that as a sign of defeat and continued, “And you’re going to fill me in on anything that I might have missed.”

Charlie never moved as Peirson restarted the voice recorder.

Peirson took out his notebook as back up and drew in a breath, “John was an abusive husband, most likely the mental aspect rather than the physical. Carol is every bit the battered wife. No surprise why she came to you for comfort, and boy, did you comfort her.”

“I know what I–,” Charlie tried to interrupt, but Peirson spoke over him.

“But to keep the peace, you three kept the secret locked up tight. Then a meddlesome babysitter put a dent in your plans and forced a course of action.”

Peirson glanced at Charlie, his body was clenched and his knuckles were white. A nerve had been touched.

“So you three decided to snuff out the match before it could start a fire,” Peirson let his accusations lay heavy in the air. “You decided to crowd up the house one night for dinner and make it impossible to find out who killed Irma Patterson because there’s safety in numbers!” If you want an egg to crack, put it under pressure.

“We didn’t mean to!” Charlie shouted in defense, mistakenly giving away vital information.

“‘We’? So it wasn’t just you?” Peirson was so close he could feel it tingling in the tips of his fingers.

“Ok,” Charlie began, “you’re right about the ONE TIME affair. And , yes, we had all agreed on keeping it quiet: Linda, Carol, and I. The less John knew, the better.” Charlie’s eyes began to brim with tears, “but she couldn’t do it anymore. She had had enough of his shit…”

“Fantastic,” Peirson breathed. “A bunch of fancy pants taking matters into their own hands and now two people are dead! Why didn’t you call the police sooner?” Peirson’s hands flew up into the air in frustration.

“She did! Her dad said he would make sure it looked like an accident,” Charlie unlaced his fingers to place his cuffed hands palms up on the table, as if he was giving up the last bit of information he had.

Act like a detective. “It was right in front of me the whole time…” Peirson mumbled, remembering Jackson saying he was first on the scene. “If her father could make it look like an accident…” Father. To Carol. Who named her son after the grandfather! Peirson’s hands slammed down hard on the table and Charlie jumped. “Where is Jackson taking his family?”

Charlie sat in brief silence with his lips pursed. “I’m willing to take the fall for this if it means Jack and his mother are far away from everything they have been through.”

The detective let out a breath and counted backwards from ten. Charlie believed he was doing what was right. After someone had that mindset, they were immovable.

“An innocent woman is dead,” Peirson slid Irma Patterson’s photo across the tabletop into Charlie’s hands. “Do you know where they went?”

Charlie glanced at the photo and lifted his head to meet Peirson’s stare. “Even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you, Detective. John is dead and my family is alive; that’s all that matters.”

Peirson gritted his teeth and stepped away from the table to compose himself. He turned back to Charlie and pointed a shaky finger at the tip of Charlie’s nose, “You’ll all go down together.” Peirson left the interrogation room, slamming the door behind him.

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Tipsy Scribbles: Birthday Presents

Tipsy Scribbles

Birthday Presents

 

Last week we celebrated my niece and sister’s birthdays. My niece, (my sister-in-law’s daughter) turned 4 years old and my little sister turned 26 years old. So maybe I should say my little niece and my big sister. Although I was still battling this godforsaken head cold, I managed to wrangle up enough spirit to make some gifts. Because when you’re artistic and crafty, you do not settle for store bought cards and gifts, unless they’re really cute and on sale.  Since I was already stuck inside with hot tea and a box of tissues, I figured I would make myself useful.

For my niece, I asked what her favorite animal was (giraffe) and hit up Pinterest. Artwork and children that young don’t mix well. Kids want something they can touch and handle, not necessarily with care, so I scratched all drawings off the list. Then I found an easy and simple pattern for a plush giraffe toy. This was my first attempt at a toy so it obviously did not look exactly like the suggested images on the web site. But considering the fact I used material scraps and hand-sewn everything except the mane, I’d say it’s not too shabby. I hand drew the pattern but I will include the one I followed if you would like to give this a try. and I will also include the tutorial I used for the mane, as it was not included in the original pattern.

Pattern link here

Mane tutorial here

Giraffe Plush - Tipsy Scribbles - A picture says a thousand words when wine loosens the tongue.

 

For my sister, I decided to draw her something last minute, the day of her birthday. Sorry Meg, but I promise thought and care went into every bit. I know her favorite color is a teal blue color, and for someone who doesn’t like the ocean or sand or swimming and burns in the sun like a vampire, she goes to beach a lot. So I decided to make her a small chalk picture of the ocean. Funny thing, I had tried to chalk this same image a while back and couldn’t get it to work and gave up on it. But the day I made her picture, it took me an hour and it turned out better than the first attempt.

Rocky Shores Chalk Pastel on Paper 3x4 inches - Tipsy Scribbles - A picture says a thousand words when wine loosens the tongue.
Rocky Shores

 

Several lessons I would like to share with you on this week’s Tipsy Scribbles. One: any kind of gift, hand made, store bought, cheap, or expensive, is best if given whole heartedly and without hopes of being compensated in anyway. Two: don’t wait until the last second to do something. And three: if someone says you should go to the doctor, listen.

 

“You take away all the other luxuries in life, and if you can make someone smile and laugh, you have given the most special gift: happiness.” — Brad Garrett

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Writing Prompts for Settings: February 2017

Writing Prompts for Settings

The characters are already in costume and practicing their lines. But is the stage set? Here are three story starters to kick off the setting to your next story!

Do any of these sound interesting enough to you for a new flash fiction (single or series) from us here at the Hideaway? Let us know what kind of stories you like to read.

Setting Prompts-Feb2017-The impressive collection must have taken centuries to put together.
The impressive collection must have taken centuries to put together.
Setting Prompts-Feb2017-Ominous shadows danced over the smoldering ruins of the academy.
Ominous shadows danced over the smoldering ruins of the academy.
Setting Prompts-Feb2017-The snow draped corridors carried the echoes of approaching footsteps.
The snow draped corridors carried the echoes of approaching footsteps.

 

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Red Herring: Part 9

Start from the beginning

Reread Red Herring: Part 8

Red Herring: Part 9 - FREE Flash Fiction series

Pierson was pulling Kyle up from the floor in handcuffs when the brunette photographer ran past him into the sitting room. The female officer gave her a look of relief, “Molly! Thank you, I was afraid you had already left.”

“And miss all the action? No way!” Molly turned to Peirson and beamed a wide smile followed by another wink.

Molly? I was way off.

Shutter clicks and bright flashes filled the now quiet room. There was murmuring amongst the officers. He assumed they were talking about him and how this all looked. It was Peirson’s gun, and his only two witnesses were a convict and a suspect. He walked over beside Molly and studied John’s body. She took four more photographs before acknowledging Peirson looming over her shoulder.

“Ash? Really?” she asked while concentrating on the bullet hole in John’s chest.

Peirson shook his head, but never took his eyes from John. This was bad. His own weapon killed this man.

“Look, Detective,” she said after several moments of silence, “you didn’t do it. He wasn’t exactly a saint either. Ten minutes ago he wanted to kill his brother-in-law. I could hear all the shouting from outside at the van. Your gun or not, this isn’t your fault.” Peirson turned to face her. She smiled overzealously and pointed to her lapel. A small clip read “Molly” and he couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’re a detective, start acting like one.” She returned her attention to her work with an added, “Sir.”

He shook off the brief mirth and squatted down to John. “I’m sorry it ended like this,” he said to the dead man as he eyed the bullet hole in his upper chest. He stood and walked into the hall with Kyle and Charlie, who were being guarded by the female officer and one other male officer. The detective accompanied the handcuffed men with their escorts to separate squad cars. He followed the female officer and after she shut the door to Kyle’s seat, Peirson held out his hand. “Thank you for your help, Officer…”

“Hambee, sir,” and she shook his hand heartedly. “Anyone else in there would have taken that shot to the face,” Hambee said and walked around to the driver’s seat.

“I’ll be damned,” Peirson breathed and caught a brief look from Kyle before the officer drove out of the gated drive.

Peirson patted his pockets checking for his notepad and gun, then ran to his car, not hearing Molly or anyone else calling out to him as he passed. Traffic was low with the storm coming in. Rain fell in fat drops across the windshield, while Peirson’s car wipers darted frantically as he drove as fast as he dared towards the police station.

Peirson entered the police station through the double glass doors. He was soaked from the rain and still breathing hard. I should really get back in shape. With his heart racing, he scanned the room.

Greg, one of the older officers sitting at a desk near the front entrance, stood. “What’s the matter, Detective?”

“I need to speak with the two women Jackson brought in a little bit ago,” Peirson said, wiping rain water away from his eyes. “It’s urgent; one is the wife of the now decea–”

“Uh, are you sure?” Greg slowly interrupted, trying to take Peirson’s urgency in earnest. “Jackson’s been resigned from the department for over a week.”

 

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Tipsy Scribbles: Chalk Mountain

Tipsy Scribbles

Chalk Mountain

 

The artist is a bit under the weather… again. Between the MtG land alter project, flash fiction proofing, a writing project of my own, and politely yelling at the dog while he also yells at other dogs, this is the only Tipsy Scribble I have for this week. I tried to follow one of Bob Ross’s videos for this, but quickly ran out of room toward the bottom. His finished painting includes a stream. But his work was also done on an 18×24 inch canvas with oil paints, rather than a 3×4 inch piece of paper with chalk pastels. Instead of Fall Stream, I have Mountain View, and I will try to have more art and less sickness next week.

Mountain View Chalk Pastel on Paper 3x4 inches - Tipsy Scribbles - A picture says a thousand words when wine loosens the tongue.
Mountain View

Happy Birthday to my niece, Amber, yesterday. Happy Birthday to my little sister, Megan, tomorrow.

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